#he was an ideal of humanity as well as someone who could understand her

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

One of the best analyses of this movie, and specially Ariel as a character and what she represents, I've listened to so far.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Eddie's mom was a free spirit who got taken too soon but educated her son in anything and everything that she found interesting. And she found A LOT of things interesting.

Eddie still secretly keeps these interests and sure, some of them are expected (weed and the best strains), some less so (obsessive reading and perfect knowledge of Edith Piaf). Eddie can even make fantastic mixed drinks ("My mom worked as a bartender for a bit and she practiced at home, what are you staring at, Henderson?!") and can quote most of Le Fleurs Du Mal from memory.

Steve learns to accept and even expect this. Mythology? Of course. Random bits of knowledge from history? Of course. The man only knows SOS in Morse code but can tie nearly every single knot known to humanity? Weird, but it's Eddie.

But then he finds out Eddie knows a fuck ton about horoscopes and astrology. It only takes a single moment of distraction on Eddie's part - Steve is complaining about his latest date, a girl Eddie knows from his class, and he scoffs.

"Well, duh. Of course it didn't work out, Steve, her Moon sign's an Aries and yours is Cancer, that's a recipe for a short fling, not a long relationship."

Steve just stares at him.

Eddie's eyes go wide as he realizes what he's just said. "Uh, I mean..." he scrambles for an explanation, "...she...sounds really stubborn?" he says slowly.

Steve blinks once. Twice. Then his mouth twitches upwards. "What is your Moon sign?"

Eddie feels like it should be a joke, but Steve is patiently waiting for his answer, encouraging smile and those fucking delicious moles. "I'm...uh. I'm a Scorpio. Moon sign, that is," he mutters and hypnotizes Steve's left eyebrow. "Which is...you know. People think it sucks."

"And does it?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, well. You know, we can be kinda...secretive? But Moon signs are all about your emotions and the inner you, so...it takes a while to get to really understand Moon Scorpios, but then we're the most loyal bunch you'll ever find."

Steve just nods, still smiling. "That's cool, doesn't sound bad at all. But - are you compatible with a Cancer Moon?"

And Eddie probably should have asked "hey, what the fuck," but someone is asking him about his interest, no irony and all that, and that isn't something frequent according to the Munson doctrine. "Oh yeah, absolutely. I mean, Scorpios can be a bit intense, but they're both water signs, you know? And it depends on the Sun sign and rising too, so..."

Somehow, they spend the whole evening discussing astrology. Well, Eddie is. Steve is just listening and asking questions.

Somehow, Eddie manages to calculate both of their charts (because Steve asked).

Steve asks a lot of stuff. "How would you make someone with your chart open up?", "What would be an ideal date for that kind of person?", "Is there something I should be careful about?" and Eddie answers everything but somewhere deep thinks man, I really envy the girl he's doing this for. She's lucky she shares the same birthday and place of birth with me.

It only clicks two weeks later when Steve invites Eddie to hang out and takes him to an alleged haunted mansion. Which...might have been one of the more outlandish ideas Eddie gave him, but he said he would actually love that and that it would fit with the Scorpio dark and brooding aesthetic, if Steve's girl is like that.

He stares at the haunted house, at Steve's sweater (the one Eddie told Steve suits him the best) and a small picnic basket and he realizes.

I gave Steve Harrington a complete guide to dating me.

Steve smirks at him and gently touches his hand, careful not to spook him. "So, what does your Scorpio Moon say?"

Eddie groans and, after briefly checking that no one is around, quickly presses his lips to Steve's cheek. "Apart from "Eddie Munson, how the fuck didn't you notice sooner?" It's purring."

The younger man laughs and Eddie could bask in that sound forever. "Pretty sure scorpions can't purr."

"With you, pretty boy? They sure can."

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, self-harm word count -> 1.5k

abstract -> "i'm not a monster"

y/n’s perspective

I don't understand why Jake would want to know how it feels. Seeing someone hurt should give him an idea… He even wanted to keep it a secret, but why?

I wonder if K already gave it to him… if he drank it knowing what it was. 

“Why are you so lost in your own head love?” I heard and smiled. “Just tired, Won,” I said and he chuckled. “Too tired even for me?” he teased and I smiled at him. He really was the best. “No, never for any of you,” I said and he smiled while kissing my forehead. 

“Jay is busy today, so he wanted me to tell you to eat at the cafeteria today,” he said and I nodded. “Are you gonna join me?” I asked and he chuckled. “I would, but I need to get my dinner at the cafeteria so I’d rather not let you wait,” he said and I nodded. 

It's been a while since I've eaten dinner by myself. Eunchae and Wonyoung are busy with after-school activities today. “Don’t miss me too much,” he said while speeding away. 

I packed up my stuff and decided to go to the cafeteria. 

While we could make our own food and eat at the cafeteria, we couldn’t get other foods made for different species. That's a concrete rule… humans have a specific process of checking food, it's quite similar to witches but our food has more nutrients for our energy in magic. Whilst werewolves consisted of a lot of meat… sometimes rare. Of course, vampires have blood bags and blood-infused food. 

Wait… if Jay was busy today, what was Jake gonna eat?

“I need help” I heard and I immediately got scared of the man behind me… speaking of the devil. “I know it's not your ideal way to spend the end of the day, but if I can't stomach a blood bag I won't be able to eat any of the cafeteria food,” he said and I nodded. 

“Why don’t you go into the city?” I asked and he shook his head. “The humans know I'm a vampire… It's on my uniform. They'll refuse to serve me. Why would a vampire go to a human-owned restaurant alone?” he asked and he proved a point. There was a lot of fear when it came to humans… some trusted witches and werewolves but when it came to other supernatural creatures like vampires… not so much. 

“Well… I could go with you? We could go to the witch area, there's food you can eat as a human '' I said and his eyes lit up and he grabbed my shoulders making me freeze. “Thank you! You’re a lifesaver!” he said as he let me go… I tried to calm down my over beating heart, but it wasn’t like he could hear it with the effects of the potion. 

“Do you need time to get ready?” I asked and he shook his head. “No… I just want food” he said and I understood he must be feeling an overwhelming amount of saturation. 

“Lets go wait  for the bus then”

jake’s perspective

I was happy she was true to her word and was willing to help me. 

We finally got out of the bus that took us to the nearest city. It had a lot of different species-owned shops and restaurants. While shops were okay, restaurants were hard since vampires primarily drink blood scaring humans when they go in saying they're hungry. 

“This is a human and witch-infused place. I hope you can find something you can eat” she said and I nod hoping it was true. “Jake?” I heard and I saw a she-devil. I hid behind y/n who looked at me confused. 

“Jake, you should not be hiding behind the poor girl” she scolded and she smiled at the y/n who put her hand out. “Hello, if you know Jake you must know my brother Heeseung '' she said and I could see the shocked expression on her face. “I’m sorry for those idiots, they’ve always been that way,” she said and I scoffed.

“But you’re a witch and Heeseung–” “Is a vampire? The only vampires born from them are Sunghoon, Jake, and Niki the rest were turned. Heeseung was actually a witch” she explained. 

“That's a long story though!” she said and I scoffed… 

“Oh, it's nice to meet you,” she said, causing the she-devil to smile. “Be careful, Jake. Being human is a lot harder than you think” she said, seeing right through me. “How’d you know?” I asked as I stopped hiding. “I’m a witch… of course, I'd know, '' she said. “Besides any idiot could feel the magic radiating off of you” I heard as I now saw Vernon-hyung. “Oh, uhm she’s actually in HYBE Academy '' I explained and her eyes lit up. “I want to go into HYBE Academy when I graduate!” she said with an excitement I hadn't seen before. 

“Oh? Maybe you’ll be my junior!” she said and y/n smiled. “We should get going now, your mates are waiting for you” I heard as I saw Jeonghan also. 

“Mates? I didn’t know you found your mates yet?!” I said and she chuckled. “Neither do they,” she said and I should've guessed. From what Heeseung explained she knew who her mates were before even meeting them. 

“Bye! I would love to see you again y/n!” she said as she left. “I didn’t know he had a sister, '' she said and I nodded. “She’s evil,” I said and she laughed. “She seems nice…” she said and I nodded. “Nicer than Heeseung at least but those two are the worst. Now can we order?” I asked and her eyes widened. 

“Oh! You’re right, uhm here” she said while showing me the menu. “Oh, Rabokki sounds good!” I said and she smiled. “Let's go order then,” she said and I put down the menu as we got in line. “Are you not gonna get anything?” I asked and she hummed. “I was thinking of getting the same thing actually,” she said and I chuckled. “We could just order a big one and share?” I suggested. “Are you sure?” she asked and I nodded. 

“I’ll pay by the way… as a thank you for doing this for me”

y/n’s perspective

My time with Jake was… nice. 

He was actually really funny and sweet so I felt comfortable around him. Even meeting Heeseung’s sister was shocking, but the evening was good despite my other soulmates being busy. 

“I’m so full!” he said as he yawned. “Why am I so sleepy?” he asked and I chuckled. “Because human food fills you so much that it just makes you tired. Unlike other species they don’t use anything to give extra energy to their food” I explained and he nodded. 

“Being a human… it's weird” he said and I was curious. “How does being a witch feel?” he asked, making me laugh. “I know it sounds weird,” he mutters softly with a smile. He was...

No, he likes Sooha, not me.

“Well, I almost have excessive energy that I need to release. Witches need to do magic to not only be healthy but practice” I explained and he nodded. 

“Vampires just have an excessive thirst,” he said and I nodded. “Does it make you uncomfortable with… you know eating with your mates?” he asked and I shook my head. 

“It's a natural thing, none of it bothers me,” I said and he nodded. “Being around you… is overwhelming” he said and it confused me. “Not right now! Just… as a vampire. I’m not the best with control so you constantly smell like blood” he said and I felt my eyes widen in shock. 

“I need to work on my control… control plus heavy emotions lead me to do horrible things. I’m sorry for that” he explained and I now knew it wasn’t really his fault. 

He probably was defending Sooha… but he didn’t mean to hurt me. “I still don’t know how it feels to be hurt. But I wanted to explain that” he said and I nodded. “Sorry for not hearing you out,” I said and he shook his head. 

“I don’t blame you” 

jake’s perspective

I dropped her off at her dorm when I left the school again. I went to the plains to test it out. 

I took a deep breath and summoned my fire. It was warm… then it turned hot and then turned unbearable. I couldn’t even control the scream that I let out. 

“That pain you feel right now… remember it. It was only a fraction of what you did to her” I heard as I saw Heeseung? “Asking her for a potion to make yourself human? What were you thinking?” he asked as I could only feel my vision get blurry. 

The burns hurt… the smell of burning flesh even made me gag. 

“You’ve hurt countless people, you're under a rehabilitation program Jake. You're supposed to learn not to be a monster and yet you do monstrous things” he said and it was true. 

There were vampires like him… who were made and are taught how to control whilst there's one like me who has killed and needed to be taught morals. 

“I get it… I’m still a monster”

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[cookinguptales]

As someone who grew up in a bilingual household where we spoke English but also signed, the part of Mabel and Theo's relationship that fascinates me the most is the communication, or lack thereof.

I'm mostly hearing (...sort of...) but grew up around a lot of d/Deaf people, CODAs, interpreters, etc. so while I can't give any input on the experience of profound deafness, I can at least tell apart different styles of signing. It's a little hard to tell sometimes how much of this is characterization vs. the skill level of the actors, but it is interesting.

Teddy Dimas does not sign fluidly. It's immediately obvious. It's not that he's terrible or that he can't be understood... it's just that there are a lot of tells that he does not sign as a primary language. The terseness of the signs, the deliberateness. You can tell that there's a second of thought before each sign, a jerky sort of compactness to them, that's common with people who learn to sign later in life. (Or who don't get a ton of practice with it.)

Signing, when you do it right, requires the use of your whole body. That can be hard for hearing people, who are generally used to more restrained movements. Teddy Dimas has never quite lost that restraint. He still can't go all in, not with his signing or his parenting.

I always thought this was really interesting, because it means that Teddy most likely learned to sign for his son (tragically uncommon with hearing parents of Deaf children) but that he still can't quite translate his thoughts properly into sign language. He can't quite get his emotions through to his son. There's a barrier there between them, and it seems to be largely one that Teddy's erected -- until Theo starts snapping back.

What I'm getting at is that Teddy has always forcibly drawn his son into his world instead of immersing himself in Theo's, and it shows. And it has really harmed their relationship, in more ways than one.

Zoe... we don't see a ton of her signing, but there does seem to be something somewhat performative about it. It's more fluid, like perhaps she's done it her whole life, but there's also something sort of... idk, false about it? And I wonder if that's just Zoe. It felt like she was always covering up her true feelings of loneliness and emptiness with a flamboyant personality, and the little flourishes to her signing seem to convey that as well. Her signing feels almost theatrical to me.

Theo and Mabel, though... I've always loved that episode where they go to Coney Island together. I get the criticism that Theo said at the beginning that he couldn't understand much of what she said when he was reading lips -- and then she proceeded to just talk at him for the rest of the episode anyway. But to me, at least, that always seemed like it was kind of the point. They couldn't understand each other, not fully, and that was something soothing to them.

There's something healing, I think, about shouting into the void. Letting out all of your most personal, complicated feelings without fear of repercussion or judgement. Talking into the wind because you know it won't talk back. You need to feel that echo but also know that it won't be heard.

I think there was some of that there in their initial relationship. Both of them desperately needed to talk, to get everything off their chests, but both of them also have trouble opening up to others due to trauma. So I think speaking to someone who couldn't understand them was, in some ways, ideal. They could make a human connection while keeping it fairly impersonal. They could unload without fear of judgement -- or worse, understanding.

Oddly, I think their mutual need to communicate without being understood was the one thing they understood best about each other. They could sense each other's loneliness and wariness and inability to trust that they could tell someone something important without it being used against them -- because their love and their trust have always been used against them.

So maybe in a way, their inability to talk to each other was actually what helped them communicate on a deeper level...?

Still, though. Still. I was so pleased to see that Mabel is learning more sign language so she can talk to Theo. She's got a long way to go, but no one learns to sign overnight. She's making progress, and you can tell that Theo appreciates it. There are still times where he gets too excited and signs too fast and she doesn't catch all of it, and there are times when she gets so wrapped up in her own soliloquies that she forgets that you have to face Deaf people while talking to them, but there's a familiarity to it now. When he signs too fast, she smiles and teases him. When she talks too quickly or forgets to sign or turns away from him, he just smiles and sighs and shakes his head. Then waits for her to come back.

Theo finds it irritating, obviously, but also understands that it's just... Mabel. She spends so much time in her own head that she has trouble communicating even with people who speak her language, as evidenced with Tobert. And maybe Theo does understand her in ways that others can't. Maybe it's the very fact that he accepts that he can't always understand her that makes her feel comfortable with him.

I also have to wonder, y'know... Has anyone ever learned to sign for him before, other than his father, who clearly saw it as a burden? Has anyone ever seen him as worth the effort of learning, not out of an obligation to speak to him but a desire to? No wonder he's being patient with her. I wonder if anyone has ever put in as much effort for him as she already has. It makes me so sad to think about, because what she's doing now is so... bare minimum. Theo has been so desperately alone, and so much of that is because his father isolated him. It's because no one else ever reached out. :(

idk, it just makes me happy that these two people who originally bonded over their inability to communicate are now comfortable enough with each other to try actually talking. There's something so shy and so joyful about it. I love that for them, especially Theo.

I don't want him to be alone anymore!! I want him to have someone he can talk to, whom he trusts enough to talk to, who thinks he's worth learning to talk to back!

Their odd brand of bilingual communication (or lack thereof) is just fascinating to me. ;;

[blood-orange-juice]

I suddenly groked why Childe's friendship with the Traveler is important to me. It makes him look more inhuman.

Same with his attachments in general. It all looks so sweet on the surface but this is *not* how humans handle attachments.

Humans are awkward, and afraid to admit they like someone, and they want reciprocity, and they are careful about how a new person will affect their life. They are very cautious about placing their trust in someone even if they like them. They often lie for the sake of maintaining the relationship.

And then there's this guy who loudly declares you a friend the moment he starts liking you enough, expects nothing in return and seems to trust almost blindly (personally, I think it's calculated risk rather than that, but it still removes the usual weight of trusting someone). Who is honest and straightforward in ways that don't really benefit him. And it's not exactly hero worship (he has that towards Skirk and Capitano and we know it looks differently), he just sees someone like himself in the main character.

His other relationships (siblings and Her Majesty) could have been interpreted in multiple ways but his attachment to the Traveler establishes those as genuine and more on the warm side too.

(and more weird)

We also get reminded that he isn't nice even when he likes a person, he still has his weird ideals and obligations and doesn't compromise on those.

If he was a brooding loner or someone more sociopathic in his approach it would be too easy to clock him as a traumatised kid or at least a flawed human. The way he relates to the Traveler very clearly establishes him as more than that.

I've also seen takes on how he doesn't really love his siblings, he just wants to be the best in everything and that includes being the best older brother. That would be awfully human, too, I think.

It's a subtle distinction, fae beings can be obsessed with beauty and perfection but not with being the best. A desire to be the best is a narcissistic dynamic, it's painfully human and rooted in insecurity.

(he says and shows multiple times how he doesn't seek narcissistic fuel at all, even on an average human level. he seeks improvement but doesn't really care about winning or impressing other people

he's also committed to doing the best he can without being worried about perfection in the current moment)

He loves them dearly and he's doing what's best for them as he understands it, but it doesn't matter whether they love him or whether anyone else including them thinks he's a good brother.

So we once again get a lovely paradox with him. Everything is the opposite of what it seems.

Could be read as a different form of trauma or just arrogance, of course, but also it connects him to other Abyssal beings (Elynas, Durin, Caribert to an extent too. one could say Enjou as well). Horrors of Teyvat love with no reservations but also it doesn't mean what you think it means.

[buttercupshands]

MHA didn't create some miracle way of helping others. It was never promised to be this way. And when it came to villains...

Spoilers for manga all the way to chapter 423.

The only way to get anything in life in MHA was to be born "normal" like everyone else and that way of thinking never left Izuku with Toga getting the same treatment she did before from everyone from her family to her "normal" classmates. It was Ochako who helped Toga even if just a little by lifting the weight of all the feelings that Toga had.

She couldn't save Toga the way one could save a civilian by saving them from harm. If it worked that way Dabi would've saved Toga even before Ochako could apologize for failing to notice Toga. She was so lazer focused on saving everyone else, that she was just another villain to stop, not a human.

Even if by the end of it Ochako helped Toga to deal with her grief, acceptance as it was wasn't something possible when a quirk makes you want to drink someone's blood from jealousy.

We got a bittersweet ending with Toga, in which she probably died from blood loss just like her double did in MVA. If it wasn't for Twice she would've died back then.

Giving away her blood for Ochako wasn't a redemption or a way to save Toga in the end, more as it was her being true to herself until the very end.

Just like Twice chose to stay with the League even if Hawks offered him a way to survive that battle. He refused and died protecting his friends who accepted him instead of choosing to betray them and accept Hawks' offer.

After Twice's death... It was a matter of time that more 'active' LoV members would join him as well. As sad as it is, we now can return to Izuku.

Who, after his time OFA-AFO quirk space, now wanted to help a "crying boy" he saw in Tenko just as before with Katsuki in chapter 1. He didn't forgive Tomura and didn't excuse the way he chose to solve his problems.

It didn't mean that Tomura would survive in their battle, even if Izuku didn't see killing others as a way to solve problems. He didn't understand Tomura, but he still wanted to try, and try he did.

The rest of this post was nothing more than a contextual prologue to understand that it's not the first time a hero failed to save a villain and in Twice's case we know that he died and his death was the reason Toga started thinking about her own possible death and Dabi finally revealed himself as Toya.

The goal of saving a "crying boy" never was an end-goal for Izuku in the Final arc, since helping Tomura deal with his feelings just left him hollow with a goal that clashed with Izuku's. As being a hero for villains meant destroying the world for them to help them live freely.

But that was before AFO resurfaced.

Sadly after that Tomura who was talking about making his own choices for a while now stopped doing that. Even if he still had a goal of helping villains and only villains, Tomura was almost gone. And his goals were now unreachable.

Izuku helped Nana who in turn kept Tomura from fading away entirely. In MHA there were countless situations where Izuku's help affected people by helping a different person to keep hope, All-Might being the first one and Nana being the last one at the moment.

Hollow after Izuku helped him to get rid of his hatred Tomura could do the only thing he did - accept the situation as it was.

Accepting AFO as his Sensei, accepting Stain's ideals and Overhaul's deal was the way he solved his problems. Just like Izuku had a problem of understanding something outside of his norm, Tomura was accepting too many things, which lead to his downfall after accepting AFO's quirk.

Just like Twice could've given up everything that he had for his friends so did Tomura.

With Izuku helping as much as he could let Tomura to finally rest as he wasn't really living ever since waking up in the hospital. With his body now affected by AFO's wishes instead of his own until the end.

In a way Izuku didn't succeed in his wish for Tomura to stop ever since PLF war arc. As he "kept fighting to destroy" no matter how hard Izuku tried to stop him.

The only thing he succeeded in was changing Tomura's mind about himself, instead of viewing himself as a monster he accepted that he was a human just like Izuku said. A "crying boy" who couldn't really destroy Izuku's hands in the end.

For a group of Villains who weren't supposed to get profiles of their own at the start of the series, League is slowly fading as the most memorable group that there was in MHA, getting backstories, their own Villain themed arc all the while being as human as anyone else.

As sad as their story is they were not "unlucky", they didn't need a happy false ending where they would need to change to be normal - they chose to live this way and they lived it to it's fullest.

[evillemons]

NAMJOON’S IDEAL TYPE (RM pt. 1)

~ a manifestation of his ideal girlfriend. Continuation into part 2 and part 3. Masterlist here.

Key words: kind, warm, intelligent, independent, extroverted, chic, passionate, career-oriented.

Her personality:

• Unlike Jungkook and Yoongi who I would see being more open minded when it comes to their relationships, Namjoon would be quite specific with whom he chooses to date.

• A lot of depictions of Namjoon’s girlfriend type her as cold and intimidating, but I mostly disagree. He once said his celebrity crush is Blake Lively, so I see him drawn to someone warm, kindhearted, and friendly, but also self-assured and practical.

• MBTI: ESFJ or ENFJ. A natural leader who is empathetic and compassionate.

• She would be incredibly intelligent, both from an academic and philosophical standpoint. Highly educated with a Master’s or Doctorate degree (he has repeatedly stated that a “sexy mind” is important to him).

• Well-spoken and eloquent. Independent and confident as hell.

• She could have a variety of careers; it could be prestigious such as a doctor or lawyer, but she could also do something more “subtly” influential like health policy or international affairs (or maybe even a highly successful book editor?). I could also see him with another celebrity musician/actor.

• Career-oriented, ambitious, and a hard worker. She would hold a lot of value in her job and have a deep passion for it.

• Naturally kind and humble; qualities they share due to experiences of hardships.

• While not nearly as much as him, she would make a decent amount of money. This would make her independent and self-sufficient.

• She would be quite skilled at whatever she does, including her hobbies and work, due to her high work ethic.

• While kind and good with people, she would not be shy or a pushover. She wouldn’t hesitate to call people out on their bad behavior or stand up for what she believes in.

• Not unlike Namjoon, she wouldn’t want to play games in a relationship. She would be direct and have an all-or-nothing mentality.

• Her hobbies might include creative outlets such as fashion, painting, baking, or visiting museums. I think Namjoon would really enjoy someone who has an appreciation for art in some form.

• She might come off as highly flirtatious due to her friendly nature, but would not get satisfaction out of superficial relationships, nor would she like shallow people.

• High emotional intelligence.

• She might be a little impatient, which is well balanced by Namjoon’s calmness and patience.

• Values respect, equality, and kindness (aka gentleman King Kim Namjoon).

• She wouldn’t be intimidated by his fame. She would see him fully as Kim Namjoon the human rather than a celebrity.

Her looks and sexuality:

• While I don’t see Namjoon as superficial, he would undoubtedly be attracted to someone feminine and “pretty”.

• Very likely to be American (but any Race/Ethnicity). While this is obviously not exclusive, he seems to be very drawn to the American career-woman type. It would be nice if she also spoke Korean, but his English fluency would make it easy for them to communicate regardless.

• She would always be well put together and have a strong understanding of fashion.

• Classic, chic style. She could prefer to wear neutrals and lots of black, but I could also see her loving pops of color and gemstone jewelry.

• Red lipstick. Probably smells nice.

• She might wear glasses at home or when she is working.

• Effortlessly sexy. We all know he is a sucker for a sexy woman.

• Somewhat modest, though. She is thin, but naturally sexy due to slight curves and flirtatious nature.

• I do see him preferring someone very well-kempt. She might do pilates or yoga and be subtly toned. She would also have excellent hygiene.

• Long ass legs to match his own. Average to tall height without surpassing him (5’5-5’9 or 165-175 cm). She would love to wear heels nonetheless.

• She might be the same age as him or older; he would unlikely date someone too much younger unless they are as mature and wise as he is. I think he would find dating someone older than him to be super hot.

• She would either be straight or bisexual with a preference for men (I would like to think he would have no issue with this generally, although he might oversexualize it at first).

• Probably gets hit on a lot a quite attractive woman. Although friendly, she would not indulge men she is not interested in.

• Might have a few fine line tattoos on her arms or back that are unique and personal.

• Maybe some extra ear piercings too, but nothing extreme or out of the ordinary.

• She is an overall attractive, well-put together woman. Her confidence and intelligence may seem intimidating, but her warm and friendly aura acts as a people magnet.

• HOWEVER, Joonie is such a kind and open-minded soul that if he met someone he liked and was compatible with, I think all demographics, looks, etc. would be out the window.

• While he comes off as a little woman-crazy, at the end of the day he just wants a deep and meaningful connection with someone.

[psychewritesbs]

Chapter 251: Decisive Battle in the Unhabited, Demon-Infested Shinjuku, Part 23--Megumi is back!! aaaaand it's not looking good

Well. In case you've been living under a rock, Megumi is back and everyone and their mom knows about it because Twitter demonstrated to be full of people who lack reading comprehension, basic human compassion, and an understanding of how trauma fucks with the mind. Only the latter is excusable, since this is domain-specific knowledge that I don't expect others to be aware of.

The number of times I've read the word "bitch" next to Megumi's name is appalling to say the least.

So... yeah... happy jjk-Sunday? Sorry, I wish I had a more upbeat intro to my ramble for this chapter but man... this fandom is something else and a lot of the comments about Megumi were just so...

Anyways let's taco'bout Megumi and share Megumi-love under the cut.

What is this irritating feeling?

Why does this matter? If you haven't seen me mention this over on the twt already, Sukuna makes a small gesture that is unequivocally Megumi body-language in chapter 248:

Megumi typically places his hand over his shoulder when he's stressed (although I have to confirm he only does it when stressed):

It isn't just the body language that is significant, but rather the way of thinking itself. I didn't catch this myself, but Ant and Danchou did, so I might not do it justice when explaining it.

This way of thinking is very Megumi-like in how he second-guesses himself. More than second-guessing, however, it also feels like a nascent sense of consciousness. All of this obviously presents a very interesting dilemma because, as Sukuna recognizes, sharing a body with Yuji has changed him.

I think we all knew Yuji or Megumi would be changed by Sukuna--because that is how Gege directed our attention by having Gojo mention Yuji could inherit Sukuna's CT by the mere fact that they shared a body. I know I also assumed that Megumi would maybe learn from Sukuna using 10s. But I also know I never even considered that the opposite could be true: Yuji and Megumi could also change Sukuna.

So, the way I see it, with that hand gesture, we have what appears to be Megumi's sense of self bubbling up from under the surface and changing Sukuna.

What's interesting to me is how subtle this is. Sukuna notices this as an "irritating feeling" that is incomprehensible to someone like him who rejects aspirational ideals.

So, part of what I love about this is that sharing a body with Yuji has deepened Sukuna's own experience of reality.

Sukuna is all ego, right? Ego is everything that is concrete...

So I have to wonder how much of this is also Megumi's own emotional turmoil given what we saw this chapter...

Wake up, Megumi!

Ok so let's do a quick recap...

We also know Tsumiki is integral to how Megumi sees himself. This is very important because Megumi basically makes her his raison d'être. In other words, his whole identity is framed around protecting her during the Culling Game. Aside from the obvious shock that it was to realize Yorozu was pretending to be Tsumiki the whole time, which meant Tsumiki was dead, the issue with Megumi was that he made Tsumiki his identity.

And if there is one thing we have seen happen time and time again in jjk is how being limited by your self-ascribed identity comes back and bites you in the ass.

So in Megumi's case, what happens when his whole identity was framed around a single outcome, and then he realized that outcome turned out to be a failure right from the start?

An identity crisis or basically no sense of self.

So what does he have to live for now?

What reason does he have for living if the person whom he had wrapped his identity around is now gone? This is what created the opening for Sukuna to possess him.

What's crazy about this is that even when he was weakened, he still put up a fight and elicited a "Fushiguro Megumi" from Sukuna. Sukuna had probably already considered the importance of the bath, but this likely solidified the need to have Megumi marinate in cursed energy. Like... this is what it took to bury Megumi's consciousness. Also, this is important because we're talking about marinating in negative emotions "to be near evil".

Now, it's midnight and I got to get to sleep, but the way jjk uses "evil" is not cliché at all, but almost like as a metaphor for chaos, hyper individuality, and instinct. I started writing about Naoki Urasawa's Monster, so hopefully I can get around to explaining the whole good vs. evil dichotomy (which is one of my favorite topics ever) soon, but this is all I'll say for now. I'll come back to this in a sec.

Next, Megumi's own Cursed Technique (which we know is tied to the brain and personality) and hands are used to kill Tsumiki's body and Gojo while Megumi can only observe.

And then, Gojo accidentally blitzes Megumi's soul with his technique.

Like are we for real expecting Megumi to just stand up and start throwing hands after all he's been through? What is wrong with people???!!!!!!!!!!! Have some compassion ffs.

Unfortunately, this isn't just about a lack of reading comprehension and compassion, it's also about lack of domain knowledge. This is Trauma with a BIG T we're talking about, and Trauma has been shown to limit how you see yourself and how you are able to think.

So, of course Megumi is distraught. The writing in this is so damn realistic.

Now, Gege has been paying special attention to Megumi's body language, and while the rest of the fandom is laughing at the "Mahoraga hands", I'm looking at how tightly closed those fists are. Even the way he's curled up in a tight ball... Almost like he's about to blow up from sheer pressure.

Quite the contrast to the last time we saw him in a similar position but with more relaxed body language.

And remember, he marinated in cursed energy so that he would be closer to "evil", right? Plus getting blitzed?

Listen, I am ready for Yuji's pep talk, I am sure it will be generational, but right now, I don't think Megumi is ready (or maybe even able) to hear it. Again, because Trauma with a big T.

Plus Sukuna loosing control of Megumi's body? You kind of have to wonder why Megumi's energy has been crescendoing to the point that Sukuna would be affected by it and not only think like Megumi, but also use body language that is unequivocally Megumi.

This feels like a Megumi is about to snap.

This is starting to feel ominous precisely because he's marinated in these self-destructive emotions for so long. Emotions which surely intensified as he saw the consequences of his inability to take action.

But then again... I was expecting a blood bath out of the culling game and it was everything but so 🤣 idk what to tell y'all. As predictable as he is, Gege is unpredictable af.

Ok I think those are my main thoughts? WHAT ABOUT Y'ALL?!!!!!! What are we thinking? What are the theories? oh mai gah.

Even if I'm responding to asks slowly, I'm still reading them as they come in guys. Sorry, school + work is kicking my ass because well... in typical Megumi fashion I haven't taken responsibility for bringing out my best.

That said, I go off to sleep 🫡 Thanks for reading!

[jungk0oksthighs]

Pi Gasu | The New World

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, E2L, vampire!jungkook

Word Count - 7.7k

A surprise visitor makes a shocking confession that prompts you to visit Euphoria. Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, terminal illness, violence, light smutty undertones, threatened suicide

SERIES MASTERLIST

“Your neighbour still reeks of the undead.” Hoseok shrugs nonchalantly into his shiny purple flask, heart-shaped lips tainted by his drink of choice. Donor number 101018. The donor is female, maybe a woman around her early thirties. The disappointing aftertaste of stale blood trickles down his oesophagus and dissipates into his body that died almost eighty years ago.

Across the neglected living space Yoongi’s icy glare sticks to his unconventional choice of roommate. The pair have co-habited for almost four years and yet Hoseok’s lack of empathy, lack of humanity, still manages to get under Yoongi’s skin.

It’s no secret that vampires lack basic communicational skills, empathy even more so, in a way Yoongi knows he shouldn’t let Hoseok’s offhand bitchy comments bother him. Usually they do go unnoticed, but when you’re the centrepiece of said comments he finds it difficult to see past them.

“Looks like Jungkook didn’t entertain your warning after all.” Hoseok’s white teeth bare in a sinister grin, one that spreads from ear to ear and would make any other human uncomfortable in it’s presence.

“Yeah but why would he?” Yoongi scoffs, brushing the long brunette hairs away from his forehead, legs bouncing anxiously where he sits, “I’m not a hunter. I’m not even remotely a threat to somebody like him.”

“Somebody like him?” Hoseok parrots, brow quirking curiously, “Do elaborate.”

“I don’t have time for this shit.” Yoongi rushes to his feet, a drawn-out exasperated sigh escaping him. “You know full-well what I mean.”

“A vampire?” His roommate’s tone oozes mockery when he swills the contents of his flask round and round with slender, veiny hands. “You can say the word vampire Yoongi, it’s not a slur. It’s simply what Jungkook and I are. What we’ll always be.”

At this Yoongi bites back the urge to roll his eyes, knowing how much it infuriates his best friend. Truthfully he doesn’t have the energy to argue with him right now, nor does he particularly want to draw a sword in a battle he’ll ultimately lose. “I’m not a threat to Jungkook, of course he didn’t take my threat seriously. Clearly there’s more going on between him and Y/N than she’s letting on.”

The sea of possibilities is endless enough for your neighbour to drown and struggle to breathe. What is going on between you and Jungkook? Everybody knows humans fornicating with vampires is heavily, heavily frowned upon – in some cases completely illegal. But who is he to judge? He lives with the undead, his only real ‘friend’ being a certified corpse of almost eighty years.

Yoongi met Hoseok while working as a paramedic, when he was called to the scene of a house fire where everybody trapped inside was announced dead on the scene, their souls claimed by the roaring flames heating the night sky. Save for one man. One ghoulish looking, freakishly well preserved and eccentrically dressed man.

Yoongi knew straight away he was a vampire, he’d heard all about them and how you can spot them from a mile away. The warm sunset glow beneath their skin, their flawless features, and of course – their wine coloured eyes. Did he expect to find a friend within the monster who survived a house fire without so much as a scratch? No, he did not. But he did take an interest in him, having heard all about what a drop of his blood could do for someone in need.

At first Hoseok was hesitant to befriend the human, understandably so, until Yoongi confirmed the foundation of their ‘friendship’ was solely curiosity. Hoseok would provide the paramedic with blood samples to help save his patients in near-death conditions. Yoongi had a spare room in a judgement free space. It wasn’t ideal for either party involved, but it worked. It still works, mostly. Despite the fact Yoongi was caught medicating patients with vampire blood and fired on the spot, the two still remain friends.

“You can deny it all you want but I know you like her…” Hoseok calls out from the lounge while the other man walks away, even with his roommate’s back turned to him he can sense the annoyance and disgust, “You don’t play nurse for just anybody.”

Yoongi stills, taking a deep inhale. He doesn’t bother to glance back at the loudest dead man he’s ever had the displeasure of meeting, “I don’t want her to die, that’s all.”

That’s not all, not by a long shot. Yoongi has secretly admired you from afar since you moved into the building, taking an interest in your daily routine and what colour outfit you wear each day. He likes the little smile you give him when you wave, he even enjoys hearing the sound of that ridiculous early 2000’s pop punk playlist that seeps through your walls whenever you’re having a bad day.

It wasn’t until he saw Jungkook enter your apartment that he took it upon himself to be more present in your life. According to Hoseok, Jungkook is a very bad man. Dead man. Vampire. Whatever you want to call him, he’s evil. Though Hoseok has never delved into the specifics of how the two creatures of the night know each other. Hoseok doesn’t share anything personal about his past, and truthfully Yoongi has never cared. Up until now.

“Who says he’ll kill her?” In the blink of an eye Hoseok is standing in front of Yoongi, his masculine features eerily tugged up, amused, “Maybe he’ll change her.”

“That’s illegal.” Yoongi scoffs, “There’s no way she’d let him do that—”

“I’m sure she lets him do all kinds of illegal stuff to her…” Hoseok’s chuckle echoes like a sadistic villain in a movie, his grin widening, “If you want to be romantically involved with her you should—”

“Wanting somebody to stay alive is not romantic.” His retort laced with poison, veiny fists balling either side of his denim-clad thighs. There’s a stand off happening between the two friends, both parties exchanging heated eye contact before Hoseok’s nostrils flare, head snapping to the direction of the front door shockingly fast.

“Seems like your neighbour has a visitor…” His tone lowers, smile fading, “One of Jungkook’s creations.”

A series of loud knocks on your front door wins you to jump, cursing under your breath when you accidentally smudge the white varnish you’re painting your toenails with. Begrudgingly getting up from the sofa you drag yourself to the front door, praying to every higher power it’s not Jungkook standing at the other side of the wood.

‘If I had a soul it would already be yours.’

Jungkook’s heart-breaking confession plays clear as day in your mind, winning you to swallow. You haven’t seen him since, nor have you replied to his messages about making donations. Truthfully you can’t wrap your head around the events that transpired in his basement last week. Jungkook kissed you. What’s worse is how much you liked it, and how much it’s haunted your thoughts ever since. His lips on yours, the taste of his blood, the way your toes curled when he pinned you to a wall so hard that it crumbled around you.

And the way his fangs scraped the skin of your neck, almost biting you.

It’s with a lot of hesitance and mental preparation that you finally swing the door open, equal parts confused and relieved when you catch sight of Jimin standing before you. Every hair on your body stands to attention, guarding your suddenly cold shivering skin.

“Hi?” You’re frowning, as is he when his stern gaze flickers over your pink striped Hello Kitty pyjamas. “What do you want?”

You didn’t intend to sound bitchy and rude, it’s just that the only time you’ve seen Jimin out and about he physically shoved you into his car and took you to Jungkook. You’re not particularly dressed for such occasion tonight. Nor do you really want to see the owner of Euphoria either, not until you figure out what the hell it is he wants from you. And what you want from him.

Jimin smirks, taking it upon himself to lean against your doorframe, “Can I come in?” His crimson coloured eyes zone in on his fingernails and plentiful aged silver rings. It’s when he tucks the stray shiny silver hairs behind his ear that he glances to you again, seemingly growing impatient. “Please?” He grins, and your stomach churns.

“Why?”

He rolls his eyes, pushing himself off the doorframe with an audible huff, “I'd like to talk to you.”

“About what?” You cross your arms over your chest, standing your ground. If you let him inside he’ll have an open invitation for as long as your name is on the tenancy agreement. But as you watch his snake print Doc Marten tap the ground somewhat restlessly, your curiosity blossoms. “Is… Is this about Jungkook?”

At this Jimin’s smile darkens into something… sinister. Much like the setting of a cliché Halloween movie, the lightbulb in the hallway flickers behind him and his shadow grows in size. Sighing again, more exasperatedly this time, he buries his fists into the pockets of his black fitted suit trousers, visibly tensing his shoulders. There’s a mutual understanding between you, his crescent-like eyes already answering all your questions.

This is definitely about Jungkook.

“So. Can I come in?”

Much to the disappointment of your better judgement you find yourself nodding, lips pursing into a flat line before you pluck up the courage to speak. “Uh-, yeah come in.” You stand to one side, watching determined footsteps bring the first vampire you ever encountered into your home.

Despite the fact you weren’t expecting company tonight you still feel underdressed. Currently dressed in comfy pyjamas that drown your figure half-way through a selfcare evening, while Jimin’s wearing a snakeskin patterned shirt tucked into his slacks, perfectly matching his choice of footwear. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing tattoos you didn’t realise he had before. Much like Jungkook almost all his skin is littered with artwork, you catch yourself staring before he edges closer to your sofa. Sitting down.

“You know there’s a long term solution for remaining young and beautiful...” Jimin hums, taking your skincare products from the coffee table between his fingers with a scoff, “Does any of this actually work?” His eyes find yours, brows raised expectantly.

You bite back a laugh, not having expected such a normal conversation with the blood sucking demon currently wedged between two fluffy pink cushions on your sofa. “Umm. I think so, I mean I hope they do some of that stuff is expensive…” Your tongue awkwardly rolls over your teeth, “So… Is this about what happened when I visited—”

“Jungkook’s drinking your blood.” Jimin looks at you, through you, waiting for any kind of reaction.

“…What?” You whisper, heart hammering inside your chest strong enough to mistake the beat for palpitations. Palms sweaty, mouth dry. “What do you mean Jungkook’s drinking my blood?!”

At this Jimin audibly pops his tongue to the roof of his mouth, a distraction from the fact he’s rolling his eyes into the back of his skull again. Bored looking, unphased. “The vials of your blood you’ve been giving to him.” A single brow quirks, “He’s been drinking them.”

“H-how did-, how do you know about—”

“I found the empty vials.” He shrugs, chuckling softly to himself while adjusting his position, until his ankle rests on his knee, leaning back with a grin, “I could smell your blood in a blind line up without trying.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” You’re shaking your head, jumping to Jungkook’s defence a lot faster than you should, “He’s not drinking them, he’s running tests on them to see why my blood is… Different.”

Jimin loses it, throwing his head back in a fit of loud menacing laughter that makes you uneasy. He’s laughing so hard that he’s struggling to breathe properly, slapping his palm to his forehead. “The curse of humanity never fails to amuse me.” He snorts, too busy judging you to look your way. He continues, “Humans… So naïve. So painfully, obnoxiously ignorant to the world around them. Life isn’t a fucking fairy tale sweetheart.”

It's with a heavy heart and a sour taste in your mouth akin to battery acid that the penny finally drops, “There… There are no tests, are there?”

“Jungkook is many things, but a scientist?” Jimin’s still laughing, borderline hysterical at your naivety, “He’s no saint either, don’t act so surprised. He doesn’t have a soul much less a conscience.”

Anger floods your body like a roaring fire, prompting you to shift your weight between your legs, physically unable to hold still. “Why are you telling me this?” You snap, eyes glued to the man, the monster making a mockery of you in your own damn apartment. Pushing down your own emotions; the betrayal, the fury, the confusion. You try to keep your head blank of any incriminating thoughts about kissing Jungkook, knowing they’d be violated instantly.

The giggles stop, and Jimin’s voice deepens into something much more frightening.

He cranes his neck, hunching his muscular body forward on the sofa as if to get a better look at you. A look is an understatement. The way his icy glare drags up your pyjama clad body forces you to look away, until he’s standing before you faster than you can process. His nose is a hair away from your own, winning you to stumble back a few steps into the coat stand, knocking it over in a hurry.

“Sometimes it’s fun to play with your food.” A bloodthirsty smirk tugs the corners of his plump lips, “Nice seeing you Y/N.” A dreamy, satisfied sigh slips from him before he disappears.

That liar. That evil bastard.

You feel violated, disgusted and scared. Why would Jungkook lie to you about testing your donations? Why would he? Why would he ask you to you touch yourself? In his presence none the less.

‘Arousal makes the blood… sweeter.’

His words torment you like a painful mantra, like a sad song from your past. It all makes sense. The need, the urgency, the demand for you to keep donating. You feel like a fool for not connecting the dots sooner, but why would Jimin come directly to you with this information?

Unless he really is just a bored, ancient demon hellbent on causing trouble...

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you that night, you’re tossing and turning, back damp from equal parts sweat and blind hatred. You simultaneously want to confront Jungkook about this and never wish to see him again. But what’s bothering you more is the fact that… Had he simply told you the truth about drinking your blood, you genuinely don’t think you would’ve cared.

But he didn’t.

--

You’re sitting in the campus library revising for a big exam you have coming up, it’s nearly Christmas break and you’re almost done with college for a whole three weeks. That’s the only thing that makes sitting here for hours on end with your nose buried in five textbooks at once remotely worth it. You need a break. The plan is to go and visit Eddie and spend Christmas in your nightmarish childhood home. Frankly it’s better than being here, the prospect of seeing Jungkook equally as daunting as your mother. Maybe more so.

It's been all of twenty eight hours since Jimin showed up to your apartment unannounced and uninvited. Though technically the silver haired vampire is eternally invited into your home now. But it’s not like you gave him a spare key and orange juice on arrival, no, all you did was invite him inside. A mistake in itself.

Maybe you should move away after graduation? It’s not for another two years but it beats staying here in a spooky city riddled with crime and vampires. Two of which can stop by your place any time they’d like. Let’s be honest, it’s not like a simple lock and key would be able to stop them from getting inside.

“You’re Y/N, right?” The female voice drags you from your daydream. Peeling your stare from the book in hand, you turn to the owner of said voice.

A wave of recognition washes over you, it’s Betty. You’d met her at your first ever night at Euphoria, the same night Jungkook had sent you home for being ‘too good’ for his vampire customers. In reality he probably just wanted to control the situation, control you, keep you to himself. Keep your blood to himself. Swallowing, you physically shake the intrusive thoughts from your mind and offer the girl a small smile.

“Hey, yeah… It’s Betty, isn’t it?” You gesture to the empty green fabric seat ahead of you, and she slips into the space effortlessly despite her very big clunky black boots and oversized knitted dress.

“Yeah!” Her teeth are pearly white, contrasting against the red lipstick she’s showcasing. She really is beautiful, the epitome of lust even when dressed casually. If you had to describe her you would use the term ‘poster girl for pornography’. She’s a woman written for people who love women, who want to fuck women and repopulate the earth with them. Spend their lives with them, celebrate them.

Or to put it simply: she’s a hottie with the best damn body you’ve ever seen.

“I haven’t seen you since my first day at the club!” She whispers, briefly glancing round the busy library in search of nosey students, “You… You quit, right? That’s what Jungkook said.”

At this you fight the urge to scoff, she doesn’t deserve your venom after all, “Mmm. Well don’t believe everything Jungkook says.” You mumble, pawing at the stack of books between as a distraction.

Her pretty features tug with something quizzical, brows pinched, “Oh? Did something happen between you guys?”

“Nope.” You emphasise the ‘p’ with a loud popping noise, offering her a fake grin that she can clearly see right through, judging from the way she sits back in her chair and watches you even closer.

“I didn’t think he was like that…” Betty admits hastily, tapping manicured fingers to the table edge seemingly deep in thought, “I mean-, he’s hot! He’s sooooo hot. Like S tier hot, yknow? But I didn’t think humans were his—”

“Nothing happened. Honestly.” You lie, the truth being far worse.

It’s not about the morally grey fact you gave him your blood willingly. You’d met Betty at Euphoria – she’s doing the exact same thing every single weekend, as she was hired to do. Of course her donations were a little more intimate than anything you’d done with her boss but- well. Almost more intimate.

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It didn’t mean anything to either of you.

‘If I had a soul, it would already be yours.’

“You should come to the party tonight!” Betty gasps as though she’s just had the eureka moment of the century, leaning forward, “There’s a huge party at Euphoria tonight for Taehyung’s birthday! You met Tae Tae, right? The blonde guy… Always sucking a lollipop. Or someone’s neck.” She giggles, adjusting the turtle collar on her dress. Telling you everything you need to know.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say cautiously, though you appreciate the invitation none the less, “Thanks though, I’m sure you’ll all have a great time.”

Betty waggles her slender index finger, flaunting a small dark snake tattoo that looks freshly done on the digit, “No no no no, you should definitely come. I know things didn’t work out work wise but it’d be nice to hang out with you!” She smiles, a single dimple piercing her left cheek, “Please? I only moved here recently and I don’t have any girl friends… Girls are usually intimidated by me.”

Maybe it’s the genuine desperation weighing her eyelids, or maybe it’s the idea of blindsiding Jungkook and confronting him about your donations. Whatever the reason, you find yourself crumbling and nodding along with her words, sighing. Quickly exchanging phone numbers and planning the night ahead.

Truthfully you don’t have many friends here either, and while your intentions may not be entirely genuine Betty does seem like a good person.

--

It’s almost 10PM later that night when you arrive at Euphoria via a very expensive Uber. It’ll be worth it, you mentally justify the money spent. It will be worth it. As will the goose bumps gifted by the cold winter air scraping your exposed skin. You’ve opted for a very revealing dress for maximum damage. The strapless black velvet dress plunges at the middle of your cleavage, leaving very little if nothing at all to the imagination. The swell of your ass is barely concealed, legs appearing a whole lot longer than they actually are with some assistance from your stiletto heels.

Is this what self-sabotage looks like? Jungkook could crush you like a grape juice box in hand, as any of his immortal staff members could. You know it’s a bad idea, but like you’ve told him before – it’s not like you have much to live for. You’ve nothing to lose at this point.

The security guard checks your ID and allows you to slip inside, you promised Betty you would meet her here at ten which makes you right on time. You’re surprised yet relieved when your purse goes unsearched, giving that you’ve brought a little insurance to keep you safe.

Truthfully ever since Betty invited you here tonight you've had one hell of a realisation. Jungkook could very well be the cure for your brother's rapidly approaching demise... You just need to keep your mind blank of any thoughts of your plans beyond the threshold of the club. They can read minds, and you won't fall into that trap again. While your chest bubbles and squeezes with something strange whenever you think about the last time you saw Jungkook... You push that down, deep, deep down until it's almost forgotten about. You're here for one reason and one reason only.

Euphoria is in full swing when you make it inside, the sexy bass-dominant song vibrating your bones, it’s deafeningly loud in your ears and you ponder if wearing a high ponytail was the right move to make. The fifty shades of red strobe lights are blinding, almost painful to look at and you can't quite make out the faces in the crowd. But you’re here. Full of adrenaline and a desire to piss off Jungkook. Another terrible, terrible idea.

It's when you make your way through the busy floor, ignoring the intense stares bruising your body, that you find Taehyung sitting on what can only be described as a throne in front of the main stage. You swallow a chuckle, vampires really know how to party.

“Hey, Taehyung?” You call out a little louder than you intended, winning every pair of fire-engine red eyes to snap towards you, like a vengeful moth to a vulnerable flame. “Have you seen Betty?” You feign confidence, feeling smaller than small when you catch sight of the birthday boy grinning wickedly. Removing a cherry lollipop from his plump lips with an audible pop.

Taehyung stands, adjusting his shirt with long fingers before his thick brows raise with something akin to genuine, human surprise. “Y/N? To what do I owe the pleasure?” He’s making his way over, lazy footsteps carrying his leather-clad legs your way.

“I’m looking for Betty, she said she’d be here…” You reiterate, swallowing your nerves. Useless really, giving that Taehyung and every other creature of the night can sense your inner turmoil from a mile away. “Have you seen her?”

“No, I haven’t.” His voice is deep, slightly croaky and albeit a little endearing to listen to, “Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday?” His smile broadens, his pink tongue rolling over his teeth salaciously. As if he’s staring at his next meal, feline eyes flickering to your exposed neck before settling back to your face.

It’s the shiny gold crown atop of his hair that you focus on, perfectly matching the long gold chain sitting behind the collar of his black silky dress shirt. “Happy birthday,” You offer him a closed smile, “How old are you?”

“Twenty nine if anyone else asks. I'm technically one hundred and seventy nine.” He hums with pride, returning the sticked candy to his mouth, crossing his muscular arms over his strong chest, “You know Jungkook won’t be happy that you’re crashing my party little one.”

“Betty invited me.” You mirror his movements, accidentally pushing the swell of your breasts up by doing do. The ancient yet well-preserved vampire notices, his not-so-subtle stare lands on your cleavage and stays there. He’s smirking.

“Betty’s not here right now.” He wets his lips, heavy eyes slowly trailing back to your face.

Right. Betty isn’t here right now when she said she would be. Less than ideal, giving that you’re in a vampire nightclub and know full-well how much everybody in here wants to kill you.

You nod, attempting to act indifferent, “She’ll be here soon…”

“And in the meantime,” He edges closer, until he’s less than arms-distance away from your body, “What do you say we have a little fun?” He grins, looking like the epitome of sin when he sizes up the pulsing vein on your neck.

That’s when your knight in shining armour swoops onto the scene, knocking Taehyung to the ground and keeping him there with a foot firmly pressed to his throat. The atmosphere shifts immediately. It’s intense, dark and frightening. But that doesn’t deter Taehyung, not in the slightest. In the blink of an eye Taehyung rushes to his feet, pinning up the other vampire to a nearby wall, vice-like grip crushing his throat. Jungkook doesn’t do as much as blink, nor does he fold.

Maybe knight in shining armour is an overstatement. More like your favourite blood thirsty enemy showing up and making a scene. Winning you more attention than you'd ever expected. Or wanted.

You’re standing there wide-eyed and frozen in place, like stunned frostbite has enveloped your senses. It’s a moment later when Taehyung is thrown to the other side of the club, his back slamming against the silver edge of the main stage – prompting the dancers to stop what they’re doing. Had Taehyung been human his spine would’ve shattered like a mirror, this being a brutally strong reminder he’s not. Nor is the creature responsible for such violence.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook’s tone oozes wrath when his dark eyes snap to yours, teeth bared in an angry snarl that has you regretting the decision to come here immediately. He’s going to kill you.

You blink at him, astonished by his strength and burly behaviour, “I-, Betty invited me—”

“Now is that any way to treat the birthday boy?” Taehyung taunts as he jumps back over, scoffing when he’s squaring up to Jungkook right in front of you, “Maybe if you kept your pet on a tighter leash she wouldn’t be here.”

That’s when Jungkook loses what little remaining self-restraint he had left, delivering an uppercut punch to Tae’s sharp jawline so strong that he flies up to the ceiling, crashing into a luxurious chandelier. Sparkles fall from the impact, like beautiful glimmering raindrops scattering over the crowd. It’s like everything happens in slow motion, it’s gorgeous, until the screams of the customers remind you that the shimmers are nothing more than broken glass.

Jungkook’s inked fingers grip your wrist tight enough to snap bones, and quicker than you’re physically and mentally capable of processing you’re standing in a secluded room you’ve not seen previously. It’s a luxurious VIP room of sorts. There’s a bed adorned with plentiful red velvet pillows and an aged, steel medieval-looking pair of shackles tightly connected to a strong hook on the wall above the wooden headboard. Much like the rest of Euphoria this room has the undertone of seduction. Causing your heart to stutter twice as hard as it had just moments before.

It's dark in here, the only other person in the room barely visible under the dim burgundy lights that scream sex.

“I’ll ask you again,” Jungkook locks the door behind him, turning to face you with sharp features contorted with thunder, “Why are you here?”

“I was invited.” You bite between clenched teeth, ignoring the way his muscles flex beneath the very sheer black shirt he wears with every angry breath he takes. There's an almost floral-like pattern weaved into the mesh material, but it's very much the visibility of his tattoos and beefy body that you're looking at.

It seems as though everybody has dressed in all black today, something you’ve only just registered looking at Jungkook’s fitted black slacks and smart shoes of the same colour. Perhaps it’s a cynical joke within the vampire community. While they treat birthdays as a cause for celebration, maybe they’re all secretly mourning their stolen humanity.

Tousled hair frames Jungkook's jarringly handsome features, drawing attention to the way his expression drips with equal parts disgust and fury. “How many times do I need to tell you? You don’t belong here.” He takes a small step closer, cold stare burning a hole in your skull, “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Yeah well I shouldn’t have done a lot of things.” You bark, trying to steady your shaky breaths. “Why are you so pissed that I came?”

The raw intent behind Jungkook’s eyes deepens with something indescribable, he’s slowly closing in on you like a lion would its prey, “When are you going to stop being so reckless with your mortality? You could’ve been killed—”

“If you wanted me dead I would be by now.” You mirror his previous words against him, fighting the urge to think of anything Jimin told you in private. Burying the real reason you came deep within the walls of you mind. He’s not going to find out you know by invading your mind, no, nor is he going to know why you're here until you want him to. You’re doing this on your terms.

“That’s beyond the point.” He scoffs, dragging his heels across the glossy tiled floor, it's shiny enough to mirror the reflection of his body, “Had I not been here to protect you Taehyung would’ve ripped your heart out without hesitation.”

“Protect me?” You chuckle humourlessly, holding strong eye contact and a proud spine when he’s no more than ten inches away from you, “Why do you want to keep me alive? Why don’t you want me dead Jungkook? Hm?” You frown, feigning confusion, “Is there something I don’t know? A reason my life is so damn important to you?”

Before you can spare a thought for Betty's whereabouts, for Jimin's confession, for anything beyond this moment, Jungkook’s heavy arms are around you. His tattooed hand gently tugging your ponytail back until your bare neck is exposed to the demon. He swallows, darting his tongue over his pierced lips to wet them.

"There's a reason I haven't killed you, the only reason I don't snap your neck where you stand." He hisses.

"Enlighten me then."

"It's selfish."

"I expected nothing less." You scoff, line of sight flickering to his lips on it's own accord. As much as you want to hate him, as much as you want to never see him again... You're drawn to him. You always have been.

Jungkook pauses, smirking slightly when he notices where you're looking, "Why are you here?"

You deadpan, "Why am I still alive?"

"Because it's in my best interest that your heart keeps beating." You're lost in his eyes, unwillingly, but they're so intense and haunting that you can't bring yourself to look away.

"...Why?"

“Because you make me feel like the man I never had the chance to become.” He lowers his face down, until his lips are brushing the skin of your cheek, barely a touch but it still earns shivers to run down your spine, your whole body trembling with anticipation, “The years I’ve spent thinking my soul was lost forever were nothing but a journey to find its other half…” His lips glide to the shell of your ear, his words barely audible when they fall from his mouth, “Right here, inside you.”

They’re just words. They’re nothing but words.

There’s an uncomfortable lump of yearning deep inside your throat that you’re struggling to swallow. The anger, the betrayal, the blood-curdling disgust at his lies is dissipating into your veins. Replaced by tingles and butterflies, a feeling so intense it’s as if every nerve in your body is aflame, every line of defence melting from the unmistakable fire of passion.

His lips are a hair away from yours, the soft bend of his nose resting on your cheek, face slanted, his eyes fluttered shut.

“To lose you, is my only fear.”

“You can’t lose something you never had.” You whisper back, and Jungkook’s heavy eyelids open just enough for him to analyse your reaction.

His breath is warm on your lips, contrasting against the coolness of his silver lip ring that’s somehow even closer now, “Having you would be an extraordinary honour, but my intention isn’t to seduce you.”

“Then what is your intention…?” You gasp quietly, thrown off-balance by the unexpected heat of this moment. Without realising it Jungkook has walked you back to the bed, allowing you to fall onto the mattress before he’s caging you in. His immortal being on top of yours, holding himself in place with one hand as the other trails the naked skin of your collarbone.

His eyes are stuck on you from above, messy hair tickling your cheeks when a gentle smile creases his supple skin. “Over the centuries I’ve seduced countless women, but now I’m forced to accept that you’re the only one to seduce me. My only intention is to finally submit to that feeling.”

Overwhelmed by this moment of forever, the white hot disgust in him long forgotten - you kiss him.

Your bodies mould against each other's, fitting together with a stunning perfection you’ve never felt before. His pouted lips are soft against your own but desperate, moving so quickly that the air is knocked from your lungs. Your tongue slips into his mouth and is messily greeted with his own, the two muscles working in perfect sync when a blissful sigh fills the otherwise silent room.

“But... What if I want you to seduce me?” You pant between a string of kisses so hungry your whole body feels starved of touch. The mutual greed for each other is unsatisfiable, your fingertips are buried in his long raven locks, his free hand exploring your curves with so much pressure that you know you’ll be bruised.

But you don’t care.

Jungkook pulls back with long fangs, a heaving chest and a voice so horse and thickened by lust that it sends a pang of heat straight to your core, “I’ll have you in every way I can get you.”

He kisses you again, and this time there’s a familiarity of his lips brushed against yours that consumes you. Like two halves of one whole finally shredding their pride and submitting to their fate. He takes you by the waist and flips your bodies atop of the mattress, until your legs are straddling his thick thighs and he’s laid flat on his back.

Leaning down you crush your lips to his, physically incapable of breaking the bond between you. Jungkook’s hands fly up to the headboard so strongly that he breaks the wood, it’s crumbling between his fingertips but he never stops kissing you back. Not once. Not even to stop you from pushing the thin material of his shirt up his body, until every bump and crevice of his taught abdomen is hit with cold air.

Busying his hands with tearing the throw pillows apart he deepens the kiss into something more. Something that has your body screaming for him to be closer, something that ignites your body from your scalp to your toes.

“Even in death, I’ve never felt so alive.” He heaves against your mouth, distracting himself from the desire to feed by gripping your hips and pulling you closer to his noticeably growing anticipation.

“Ah.” You hiss, wincing in pain when the hold of your bones is harsh enough to crush them, “Jungkook…” You whisper, breaking away from his mouth, “You’re hurting me.”

With no hesitation spared Jungkook removes his hands, snaking one up to his fangs where he plunges them deep into his wrist. The eternal crimson liquid stains his lips before they find yours again, the taste of his blood providing you with a rush of euphoria. The ache in your hips seemingly never existing to begin with.

All you can think about is his nearness, the fact your bodies are writhing around so fearlessly swept up in each-other’s presence. Nothing else matters. He’s addicting. His body, his lips, and dare you say it even his blood.

Reality wins you to pause, take a beat away from him to catch your breath. This is the same vampire that lied to you about your blood donations, the same vampire who has been slugging back shots of your DNA as if it were the most normal, mundane thing on earth.

“I want you,” Jungkook pants, showcasing his inhumane strength when he’s flipped your bodies until you’re the one pinned down. There’s a loud snap from beneath you and you’re almost rolling off the mattress before he catches you, adjusting your positions until you’re at the other end of the bed. The wood crumbles beneath your weight, feathers exploding in the air when he takes a fistful of pillow beside you.

“All of you. Your mind, your body… Your soul.” He pants, lips trailing down your neck in a string of wet kisses that make your head spin, “My deepest desire is to conquer everything you have, everything you are. Until you’re mine.”

But his list is one detail short. Your blood.

A surge of arrogance rushes through you, prompting you to push him back and climb on top of him. To your equal parts surprise and relief he allows this, his body shuddering with something you feel too. Unmistakable, undeniable, uncontrollable lust. You distract him with your kiss, not missing the way a low moan slips into your mouth along with his tongue. Your body is desperate for more, as is your heart. But much to the disappointment of your libido you listen to your brain and restrain him. Binding his hands with the shackles you spotted on arrival.

As soon as they click into place you find the strength to peel away from Jungkook, after one final kiss. A kiss you’re certain will be your last, so you make it count. You kiss him again and again, until the remains of his blood is smeared across both your lips. Until you’re gasping for air. Until he registers where his hands are placed and what you’ve just done.

“Don’t be scared,” He coos, leaning forward where his tongue meets the structure of your jawline, licking the skin so sinfully you have to bite back a groan, “Untie me, I want to feel your body writhe beneath mine when I annihilate you.”

Despite the overwhelming urge to see his words through, you stop. You muster the strength to get off the now very broken bed and stand before him. Adjusting your dress that apparently was pushed up to reveal your underwear merely moments before. Glancing round the room in search for your purse you find it, holding it between your fingers when Jungkook’s deep voice catches your attention.

“Did I hurt you?” The guilt in his voice is enough to tug at your heartstrings, and you have to remind yourself of the lies he’s told you. Where your donations were really going all this time. You swallow, finally looking his way.

He’s a mess. A heavy breathing, pornographic looking mess. Raven wayward hairs tickle the bridge of his nose, but it’s his blood-stained lips and prominent fangs that remind you that ending this here was the right decision. No matter how badly you want him, how much you crave his touch, his body, his heart. He’s a monster. A vampire. A liar.

“No, you didn’t.” You mumble, swallowing.

It’s now or never, you’ve managed to keep these thoughts at bay this entire night. The whole reason you came here to begin with. You never intended for it to go this far, you didn’t plan on anything like this happening at all. But once again you found yourself caught in the sticky web of the most handsome demonic spider you've ever encountered.

“What’re you doing? What’s in the bag?” His angled chin tips to your purse, noticing that your anxious gaze keeps flickering between him and the accessory.

“Insurance.” You whisper.

“Insurance for what?”

The sexual tension has shifted into something much, much darker. Now that your breaths are steady and your mind de-clouded from the spell of Jungkook’s lips you know what you have to do. You think about Eddie, his condition, how much pain your twin brother is in every single day.

And how you can stop it.

“I need a vial of your blood.” Your eyes snap to his, and he looks hurt. The calmest expression haunts his handsome features, but in spite of the fact he doesn’t visibly seem angry – you’ve never been more terrified of him. “My-, my brother is terminally ill. I need—”

“Untie me.” He growls, the chains clanging against the steel hook on the wall. You recognise the scripting of the shackles, they're identical to the ones in his basement, you know that for whatever reason he’s bound by them until you say otherwise. “So that’s why you came here tonight, hm? For my blood.”

“It’s the least you can do for me.” You sniff. To bring up the lies, or to leave them in the dark? Now that is the question.

“I’m not giving your sick brother my blood. I don’t give anybody my blood, it’s mine.”

“You gave it to me.” You remind him, reaching into your purse for your ‘insurance’ that he will do as you say. One way or another you’re going to use him exactly how he used you, and hopefully save your brother’s life in the process.

Jungkook’s features drop until no emotion remains, “That’s different. You're different. You can take me in every way imaginable.”

“I won’t ask you nicely again.”

“I implore that you don’t.” He scoffs, “It’s never going to happen. You’re the only exception.”

With a pounding heart and sweaty palms you peel the gun from your purse, clicking the safety off before you aim it toward the one thing standing in the way of Eddie’s recovery. Jungkook is amused to say the least, a sinister grin tugging the corners of his blood-stained, pierced lips when a light-hearted sigh escapes him.

“Do you know anything about vampires? That won’t kill me.” He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “Either stop talking nonsense and untie me, or get over here so we can finish what we started. I’m willing to overlook your little outburst just this once.”

Ignoring his pleas you nod, slowly, calculatedly, “I might not know much about your kind but I do know one or two things about you…” You whisper, flexing your wrist until the barrel of the gun is pressed tightly against the hollow of your temple. The temperature of the cold weapon shocks you enough to drown out the sounds of Jungkook battling with his restraints, snarling and swearing that you release him immediately.

“I have no reason to live, yet every reason to die.” Your eyes well up with tears, you’ve ingested vampire blood. Jungkook’s blood. If he doesn’t give into your commands you’ll be one of his kind for eternity… It wasn’t the plan, but it’ll have to suffice, you know you won’t get this chance again.

“Give me your blood Jungkook. Or you’ll lose your pet blood bag forever.”

x

[zeravmeta]

they were all fakers huh. not just koyan but all the alter egos of the foreign god even the foreign god itself with its quest for dominance they were all fakers who tried to surpass the original and who all had no true place among humans. koyan and limbo are obvious examples but it also applies to muramasa and rasputin (noted freaks and outcasts of their era and inhabiting individuals that reflect this accordingly) and holmes himself as a hidden traitor and reflection to moriarty.

koyanskaya wanted to emulate the monster that tamamo no mae once was, something that could freely torment and destroy humans, but tamamo was a being who had always strived for understanding yet was never shown compassion. shes so committed to the good wife role because its something that will have her accepted by other humans, and more specifically something that will help her understand human love. tamamo had always wanted love and acceptance by humanity, but koyanskaya already holds human love within her whether she likes it or not, not only because of her status as a beast but also because she's representative of the animals that have walked alongside humanity from the beginning. its why tamamo is her mirror, why koyanskaya was even classified as an alter ego of tamamo in the first place, and it's also why there's even a koyanskaya of the Light and a koyanskaya Go In The Dark: they not only represent the death and life zones of her reality marble, they're another emulation of tamamo having split herself apart into the tamamo nine (the bnuuy two?). koyanskaya isnt the tamamo no mae or a part of the nine, nor is she daji as well, but she is a being similar to them because she exists with the same natural dichotimatic feelings towards humans. they hold a love for humanity that is fundamentally at odds with their own nature as natural enemies of humanity.

I feel like this is in part why ibuki douji was the only servant that could be brought in from the outside: She's also a living calamity towards humans, a literal force of nature with a will of its own. she had amnesia entering tunguska because it was a world antithetical to humans, reflective of koyanskayas mindset but also her ideal vision of a world, full of beings removed from humans and defense mechanisms celebrating the murder humans are capable of. if you took her history with humanity away, the ibuki douji that's left is quite literally just a happy go lucky free spirit of nature in a world made for herself, no longer a venerated god or feared calamity.

deep down, it's what koyanskaya wanted for herself.

taigong knew that the fair faced golden fox was a being that couldn't help its nature, it was specifically born as a monster that was meant to torment and destroy humans, but he still fell in love with her not in spite of her nature but because of it. he knew that she was a monster that would only terrorize humans but as he sees her struggling to survive he can't help but empathize with that as a fellow human, and more than anything taigong follows through on dajis curse of immortality because that's what it meant to love her, to achieve her final dream. to carry the memory of someone you love

taigong and nikitich were the only servants able to be summoned into tunguska because they were the only ones who would have compassion for koyanskaya, and compassion, understanding is what's needed to defeat beasts of humanity. it's never about defeating the big enemy, its about reaching an understanding.

anyways they just needed like 1 extra tidbit to foreshadow this beforehand so that tunguska wouldnt have been so poorly received 2ish years ago (and i mean. we do have that moment in SIN with QSH thats even called out in koyanskayas profile) + proper scheduling to not have this critical story piece be a time limited raid event (lol epic of remnant gudaguda moment) but hey they're funny

[dyns33]

Upon a dream

Dream x reader, being idiots, as always 

Morpheus was truly the best boyfriend in the world. Romantic, poetic, attentive, tender, passionate.

If he had been real, he would have been truly wonderful.

But unfortunately such a perfect man couldn't exist, and so it was normal that Y/N only met him in her dreams.

During one of her nocturnal wanderings, she had found herself in a huge library, his library, and even if he had been surprised to find her there, he had not chased her away, allowing her to explore, showing her the castle, chatting at length with her.

It had been a beautiful dream, which she thought she would quickly forget. But she had dreamed of him again the following night, then every other night.

She was trying to convince herself that it was no big deal.

Her life wasn't so terrible, she had her family, her friends, her job, her hobbies. There were plenty of people who remained celibate all their lives and were perfectly happy being alone in front of the television, eating ice cream and imagining an ideal lover who would visit them in their sleep.

Nothing special.

           "My love, you seem troubled tonight. Far from me. Are you alright ?"

           "Yes, Morpheus. Excuse me, I'm just tired." Y/N apologized with a smile, snuggling into his arms to forget her worries, and the fact that he wouldn't be there when she woke up.

           "Good. That's what I'm here for. You can rest in peace, I'm watching over you. What do you want to do, my love ? Lucienne would be happy to show you new books, Cain and Abel wish to tell new stories, Matthew asks for gossip from the waking world. We can also walk in the gardens, travel to the other side of the galaxy, or stay in bed. Tell me, my love, I am at your command."

           "You're adorable. Anything is fine with me, as long as we do it together."

           "My sweet." he whispered, kissing her.

As always, it was difficult for Y/N when she opened her eyes and found herself in her bedroom, alone, in her cold bed, just like when she went to sleep.

It was absurd, she repeated it to herself every time she was about to fall asleep, but a simple dream managed to make her feel things she had never felt in her entire existence. The human brain could really be fascinating. And dangerous.

Depressing.

Because even if she was terribly happy when she was with Morpheus, she was just as sad when she left him and returned to reality.

Several times, she had thought of talking to a doctor about it. To find a solution. But Y/N didn't really see what it was going to solve.

They were only going to tell her that she felt lonely, which she already knew, and that her dreams were trying to fill that void.

The only thing she could do was seek the company of real people when she was awake.

It was not easy.

If Y/N had been able to get a real boyfriend, she would have done it a long time ago.

And it was worse now, because no one could ever be as good as Morpheus. She was really in love with him.

In love with a dream, it was really depressing.

There was also this ridiculous idea in the back of her head, which kept telling her that it wouldn't be very proper to cheat on him. Even if he didn't exist.

He didn't exist. Morpheus didn't exist, he wasn't waiting for her in her dreams every night, he would never magically appear in front of her, and if he loved her, then he would understand that she was looking for someone to spend her life with.

After asking her friends for advice, one of them offered to introduce her to a charming man, with whom she could get along well. It was less risky than meeting a stranger, because they could tell he was a good person.

And if she didn't like him, it would be fine, she would find other suitors.

Désiré was indeed a charming man. Funny, kind, seductive. But during the whole evening they spent together, Y/N only thought of Morpheus.

When their hands touched at the end of the meal, she quickly pulled it away apologetically. He looked a little offended, but he didn't say anything, forcing a smile.

           "It seems to me that I am not up to it." he sighed when it was time to part ways. "I don't like to lose, but I know when I'm not... wanted. Which doesn't happen often. He's lucky. He doesn't deserve it."

           "... I don't understand what you are talking about."

           "Oh, darling. I think that's the part I find the funniest. He'll be pissed that we had dinner together, but I can't imagine his reaction at all when he finds out why we had dinner together. "

           "It's late, I have to go home."

           "You're right. Sweet dreams." he purred, throwing a kiss at her.

Y/N did not try to understand what Désiré had meant. No doubt he had drunk too much alcohol during the meal, and he had guessed that there was someone else in her heart.

Going to bed, she relaxed thinking that she was finally going to find Morpheus and his marvellous kingdom, after this long day.

The throne room was horribly empty and cold when she materialized there. Sitting on the steps of his huge staircase, Morpheus watched her with an impassive face.

           "How was my brother-sister ?"

           "... Your what ?"

           "Desire. You were with them all night. At first I thought I had to step in, that they were going to try to hurt you, but... Matthew told me you asked to have dinner with them. A "date". You asked your friends to find you a 'date', several 'dates'. So I'm not enough for you ? You don't love me anymore ? Are you making fun of me ?"

           "Morpheus." she sighed sadly. "Of course I love you. I love you more than anything."

           "But not enough to be faithful."

           "Oh, I knew my mind would go to that ground, it's really not fair."

           "... Your mind ?" he repeated slowly.

           "Listen, I love you. But you're not real. It's just a dream. I can't wake up every morning to be reminded that this isn't true, that I'm alone, not loved, and the only times I feel some joy are during my sleep, with a being that my subconscious has invented. You are perfect, and the more time I spend with you, in this fabulous world, the more I cut myself of the real world. It's not healthy."

           “It is true that it is not good for mortals to live in the Dream. But that does not mean that it is not real. That we are not real. You... You really don't know who I am ? You really don't know it's not just a dream ? It's never just a dream."

           "Morpheus... Don't make me hope in vain."

           "I told you to go on dates in the waking world, boss. Just because you always say you exist doesn't mean the lady is going to believe it's true."

The little raven trembled a bit when his master looked at him, flying away to rest on Y/N's shoulder, where he would be safe, for the moment.

           "Maybe I should have listened to you, Matthew. But it's not too late. Desire also showed me that our love was strong, they couldn't do anything against it. I just have to make up for my mistake."

Slowly, Morpheus stood up, approaching Y/N, who didn't know what to make of this dream. It really wasn't like the other nights.

He caressed her cheek tenderly, before kissing her like every time she was going to have to leave soon.

           "When you wake up my love, I'll be there and you won't have any reason to be sad, or look for another partner."

           "Don't make me..."

           "This dream is over."

Jumping up in bed, Y/N first looked at the window, seeing that it was still dark. She then looked at the time, which made her sigh. It was still very late.

           "Good evening my love."

This time, in addition to jumping, she screamed, falling off her bed. Immediately, a man came running to her side, asking her if she was alright and helping her to sit on the mattress. He had the voice of Morpheus. And his face.

No, it was impossible.

           "Well done, boss. Subtle. She wasn't scared at all."

           "Silence, Matthew. My love, forgive me, I told you I would be here."

           "... I'm still dreaming ?"

           "No."

           "So this is it, I'm crazy."

           "You are not in my younger sister's domain, I can assure you. I should have explained a lot about myself to you more clearly, I should have visited you in the waking world earlier. We were so happy I was not thinking, as soon as you appeared in front of me I only wanted to be with you and I did not see that I was hurting you. I apologize. My love, I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, king of dreams and nightmares, prince of stories, and I am very real."

           "... You are real." she said softly, touching his face to make sure he really wasn't an illusion. He closed his eyes when her fingers touched his skin, turning to make them pass on his lips. "All this time, you've been real. And I almost dated another man. You must hate me."

           "I wasn't thrilled by this news, but there was a misunderstanding, so I forgive you, if you promise me never to do this again, and to stay away from Desire."

           "His name is Désiré, and okay."

           "Desire is my brother sister, my sibling. Another Endless. They wanted to have fun with you, at my expense, but your feelings were strong and sincere, preventing them from manipulating you, and proving to me that I had no reason to be jealous."

           "But you were still a little jealous."

           "No."

           "Boss." muttered the raven, poking its head out of its creator's cloak. "Boss, you're really bad with girls. You always have to say yes. Yes I'm jealous, but I trust you, I love you, I don't deserve you and I'll do anything to be worthy of..."

           "Thanks Matthew, you can go back to the Dreaming now."

           "I'm a good wingman, I think it's safer if I stay."

           "My love and I are together for the first time in the waking world, at night, in her room, on her bed."

           "... See you, boss ! Madam ! Be good !"

The raven disappeared back into the cloak. Morpheus waited a few moments, as if wanting to make sure he was gone, before laying sensually on top of her, suddenly looking a bit taller, his shadow enveloping the entire room as a sort of purr emanated from him. Y/N wondered if she was really awake.

           "So, my love, what do you want to do ?" he asked, as he asked her every night.

           "Hmm... I'm too tired to go out. It's a little late to read, watch a movie or even dance. So what could we do ?"

           "What, indeed ?"

           "Is the king of dreams sleeping ? Is he dreaming ?"

           "No, and no. But I think about you all the time, to the point that it interferes with my work. A lot of people often dreamed of you, because I wasn't concentrating enough."

           "Are you willing to sleep with me ? I mean, sleep sleep. I'm really tired. But if you're here tomorrow morning... You know."

           "It would be an honour for me to watch over you while you sleep. I already do it every night, but to hold you in my arms while you are asleep. It is the most beautiful proof of love and trust. Not many people realize that there is nothing more vulnerable than a sleeping being. Thank you for this gift, my love."

Smiling, Y/N snuggled up to him after being settled under the covers. She would have liked to listen to his heart before falling asleep, but obviously he had none. He didn't need it, he wasn't human.

They would talk about that later, and the consequences that implied.

But now she was tired, and happy that Morpheus was really there, in her bed.

           "Are you really not going to sleep ?"

           "No. I'm going to beg my father for the night to pass faster, so that it's morning and we… You know."

Y/N would also ask him about his strange family when she was better awake. In the meantime, she fell asleep peacefully in the arms of Morpheus, who sang her a lullaby while stroking her hair.

[gffa]

Padme is a character that’s difficult to talk about narrative intentions with, because she’s so underwritten in so many ways and written to serve Anakin’s narrative arc (she’s not alone in this, I would say it’s fair to point out that Obi-Wan gets this as well) that she’s there to be the person Anakin is filling himself up with after the loss of his mother.  She’s there to be the person he can’t let go of, the person he becomes attached to, because her presence soothes him. As much as I might disagree with it, I do think the narrative intention is that Anakin is still a good person at this point (or at least capable of being a good person), that Padme is there to show him compassion and help him step back away from the dark side.  These were his first steps into the dark side, he wants to become more powerful than any other Jedi to stop death from happening, and Padme is there to show that he is still capable of letting those things go, even if we know he ultimately won’t. For Padme, the way he lashes out shows a vulnerability that pulls on her heartstrings, like when he tries to provoke her by saying he killed the women and children as well, he’s crying at the same time, we the audience can see it as a red flag, but Padme’s heart is twisting itself around for him. There’s theorizing that goes around every so often of the, “Padme Amidala is a freak, okay, she wanted to dive face first into the hot mess that was Anakin Skywalker” type and I see a lot of truth in that, I think part of her absolutely thrilled at all that hot mess being beamed in her direction, that she loved the whirlwind romance of it, that she cherishes her duty to her people that she swore to help, but that she can’t help being swept up by the romantic idealism of Anakin, who blows right past all common sense and leads with his hurricane of emotions. This meta about Padme being super into the sweeping epic romance of it all is another part of her character:

This scene ends with her giving in, with her leaning into the kiss, because she’s so moved by him setting his lightsaber in her hand, telling her that this is his life. Or there’s this banger meta by @gil-estel about how Padme is drawn to Anakin because, to her mind, wants Padme for her.  That he doesn’t want anything of her politics or her role as a former queen or senator, that he’s her chance to have this relationship that’s just hers.  I can see a lot of that in her character, too! Or this other banger meta by @antianakin that’s about her connecting with Anakin’s anger, that it’s when she sees all that anger in him that her last barriers against him are destroyed, because she felt that.  That, when she tells him, “To be angry is to be human.” is because she’s familiar with that kind of anger. And I think I can really see that. Even when that rage turns on her later in TCW and she no longer feels safe around him, she does go back to him, she does reject the idea that Anakin would kill Jedi younglings (crossing the line of what’s understandable, even if it’s wrong), she's even willing to overlook it once she can't deny it, and say she still wants to run away with him. It's not until he refuses to meet her even a little bit in the middle that she finally realizes who he's become, the destination all that rage was heading towards. It's something I can sympathize with for her, so many of us feel so much rage at the horrific things that happen in the world, it's not hard for me to imagine Padme falling for someone who grabs hold of that rage, that kind of rage she feels but has to keep setting aside because her duty demands it of her, because she knows that she wouldn't actually accomplish what she wants with that rage, and put it together with the Padme we see. Look at Padme in The Phantom Menace.

It’s not hard to read helpless anger in her character, at being unable to help while her people are dying.  It’s not hard to read into her that some part of her would wish she could just take a blaster and shoot all the Trade Federation members dead for what they’re doing to her planet. They’re her people, she loves them and wants to protect them, of course she’s angry at what’s happened to them. Or when Onoconda Farr is murdered, Padme immediately leaps into investigating it because she doesn't like or trust the police, Tan Divo doesn't take her as seriously as she wants, she takes all that anger she has inside her and does something about it. She investigates who might want him dead, she grabs a gun and goes to the docks, despite that she's a senator, not a police officer.

She is so angry about what happened to her friend that she doesn't care about the rule of law, she doesn't care that she could be jeopardizing the case, she doesn't care that she's stomping over people's rights--her friend was murdered and she's furious about it. Uncle Ono was her dear friend, she loved him, of course she’s so angry at what happened to him. It's not an anger that always rears its head, Padme has more self-control than that, but sometimes it explodes out of her, and I think that's part of what attracts her to Anakin, he's someone who has all the same anger that she does, he doesn't care about rules when he's furious about something, and even if that means stepping on some people or hurting people or killing people along the way, she understands that kind of feeling. This is the person who comforts Anakin on Tatooine with the words, “To be angry is to be human.”

Someone who has compassion in her heart, but also intimately knows what it’s like to have that same anger that Anakin has. Padme doesn’t have to be consigned to just one reason for showing Anakin compassion on Tatooine.  It can be a multitude of things, that she’s underwritten and just there to further Anakin’s story, that she’s a kind-hearted person who sees the good and the pain in Anakin, that she doesn’t consider the Tuskens to be human-equivalent, that she’s falling for him because she’s a freak who’s into this hot mess, that she’s attracted to the epic romance of it all, that she viscerally understands what it’s like to be that fucking angry, that you want to murder someone for the people they killed. I like a combination of all of the above, because even if I can’t speak to what Lucas intended with her--if he even intended anything with her--I love Padme’s character and all the complex things that are going on with her.

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

Code of Conductors

Like many, I've found myself enthralled with @critterbitter's recent comics. While this is 100% based on trends I noticed in the story, I'll admit that the tone is something of a departure, so if you're looking for comedy, this might not be the fic for you.

(As a disclaimer, I wrote the bulk of this before the most recent arc began, so it might stray a bit into that territory, as well.)

If you'd prefer AO3 over tumblr's formatting, it's also up over there.

---

Having a starter Pokemon… wasn’t going the way Ingo might have hoped, so far.

He’d tried to temper his expectations-- not everyone could have the storybook encounter that Emmet and Tynamo found-- but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed by the reality that met him. He’d wished to Zekrom for a partner whose ideals would align with his own, and while he understood that it didn’t mean he and this hypothetical Pokemon would see eye to eye on everything, his thoughts had been that they could at least find an accord.

He’d longed to meet someone who might accept him for his imperfections-- for his inability to emote the way other humans expected, for the peaks of volume he couldn’t always control, for the creeping doubt that he was too much and not enough, all at the once. He wanted so badly to work with Litwick, but even though her telepathy made it possible for them to communicate more clearly, his misgivings only grew stronger with every passing day.

Ingo thought he understood. He wasn’t her first pick by any stretch of the imagination; if she’d had her way, she’d have left Emmet as a disoriented heap on the floor and faded into the background, never to be noticed. Instead, he’d caught onto her game, and then caught her. He knew it wasn’t a terribly uncommon phenomenon, and that good trainers could work with even the most reluctant Pokemon, but nothing he’d attempted was working. He’d tried letting her feed from his soul, and while it eliminated the language barrier between them, functionally speaking, it only meant that he could understand her malcontent in her own words. He’d tried compromise, to meet her on her level, but hearing how bland he was-- how utterly lacking-- became difficult to take day after day. He’d even overheard Emmet trying to bribe her into cooperating with him, and it was humiliating. He knew his brother wasn’t blind to how he was struggling, but to have her ambivalence spelled out so plainly made his doubts resurface, tenfold.

He’d waited this long for a Pokemon to show interest in being his partner, so he could wait a little longer. If Litwick truly wasn’t happy-- if he really was dragging her down, as she seemed to imply-- it was only right to let go. The situation in the Celestial Tower had meant that he couldn’t give her a choice back then, but he could now.

It might delay their outset, but maybe a minor miracle would happen, and he’d find a Pokemon that wanted to be his friend-- or was at least open to the possibility-- within the span of two weeks. They hadn’t tried the Desert Resort, yet. Even if he was incompatible with ghosts, maybe a Sandile or Dwebble would suit him.

...and if he couldn’t make the turnaround, he could try to ensure that he’d be the only one inconvenienced; he didn’t have any earthly idea how he’d convince Emmet to go ahead with their plans on his own, but surely being left behind by choice would feel better than holding his loved ones back.

In a roundabout way, that included Litwick.

Ingo had already talked himself out of and back into this course of action multiple times, so he knew how difficult it would be to stick to his convictions-- the last thing he wanted was an audience to convince, too. That was why he waited until it was time for Tynamo’s daily charging session, took Litwick’s pokeball, and sneaked out to the shallow portion of the greenbelt nearby. It wasn’t where Litwick had come from, but everyone had heard stories about forests infested with will-o-wisps ready to lead an unsuspecting hiker off the beaten path, so he could do worse. He walked far enough that the waning daylight dimmed even further, but not so far that he was left without any trace of natural light to lead him home.

He turned the pokeball over in his hands, practicing the words in his head one more time, then drew a bracing breath and released its occupant.

“Alright, sock Grookey, what’s going through that fluff-filled head this time?”

He looked away, keeping Litwick in his periphery, but unable to look her in the face. “You can go, if you would prefer.”

“...what?”

“You can leave. I don’t want to keep you confined if I’m only making you miserable; it’s not fair to you.” The pokeball had automatically clicked shut again, but he toyed with the latch, popping it open for when he’d need it.

He heard Litwick scoff, “Oh great, you’ve hit your emo phase, huh? Nothing like a soggy cracker to snack on.”

“Then you can find someone else.” He said, keeping his eyes trained on the lowest limb of a nearby tree, imagining how its rough bark would feel if he were to reach out and touch it. Cold. Hard. A far cry from malleable wax. “No one’s stopping you any longer.”

He could only imagine that she was rolling her eyes-- maybe her flame flickered in irritation. They may not have spent long enough together to become friends, but he’d learned to read her, and he wasn’t sure he’d lose that knowledge once it became irrelevant.

“Yeah, yeah, read it a hundred times.” She drawled, rolling her eyes. Her nubby little arms raised into the air, waving in an exaggerated shooing motion, “’Get out of here, I don’t want you anymore!’ Have anything more original?”

Of course. Of course Emmet got the fairy tale meeting, and now he was living out some novel fishing for a Clawitzer Prize. He swallowed hard, trying to banish the thought; it wasn’t about him-- none of it was. He could be jealous of his brother and Tynamo, and he could be upset about how badly his short-lived partnership with Litwick had gone, but for their sake, he should keep it to himself. His feelings weren't their responsibility, only his own.

Any and all of the words he’d practiced failed, and all he could do was wave a hand, certain that if he spoke up now, his voice would betray him.

“Are you serious?” Litwick asked, surprise quickly morphing into anger, “Well screw you, too, muppet boy! Do you really think you can do any better? Good luck!”

“I know! How can I possibly miss it when every Pokemon whose path I cross turns up its nose?” On some level, Ingo was mortified that his restraint had failed him, but he was too distraught to let higher thought dictate his feelings. What was it they could all sense that chased them away? What was the deficiency in the core of his being? What was so terrible that no one could look past it? He was so afraid that he was going to be left alone someday, unwanted by anyone new and cast aside by those who had no choice but to tolerate him. In spite of his brother’s reassurances, he felt certain there would come a day where he’d reach out to find that no one was there.

He couldn’t think of anything else to follow that, and Litwick was still simmering in outrage. Dashing a hand across his eyes, Ingo returned his attention to the pokeball and inverted it, holding it by either side to bend its hinge backwards, past the point of repair.

“Wait.” Litwick said, and he felt his own frustration bubble up.

“Why can’t you make one thing easy?” He demanded, a sob working its way into being. He was trying to live up to his own ideals with all of his might-- to ensure that Litwick was able to find her highest state of self, even if this was the only way he could help-- but it was so much harder than everyone made it out to be. Was that the problem? His ideals were so flimsy, so hard for the person who held them to maintain, that no one could align with them?

Ingo didn’t know what he expected anymore. He’d thought Emmet would tell him he was being ridiculous when they'd had their heart to heart, but he hadn’t-- in this situation, though, he couldn’t imagine that Litwick would turn around with an apology, and he wasn’t even sure that he’d be able to believe it was genuine, that she wasn’t saying it to shut him up.

“I don’t get you.” She said, and he could have tossed his hands up in dismay. If nothing else, he supposed they’d come to the understanding that they didn’t understand one another-- and just in time.

As she continued on, however, he went very still, listening carefully.

“It feels like you should be something else, but I can’t tell what. Why are you only half baked?” She asked. It was weaker than it would normally be-- a light fizzling instead of a pointed burn.

That felt like it should have hurt more; it was practically confirmation that he was lacking something intrinsic to the human condition, but Litwick’s bafflement made it fumble the landing. Maybe… maybe it was normal? He’d watched Emmet mature a great deal in the time since partnering up with Tynamo, so there could still be hope for him-- though it did seem like something of a Pokemon-or-the-egg situation. He needed a partner to help him grow, but he needed to grow if he was going to find a partner.

Ingo didn’t realize it in the moment, but his hands relaxed a bit, and one fell to his side, abandoning the pokeball all together; some of Litwick’s tension eased, unnoticed, and she molded back into her preferred shape.

“Maybe... we can make a deal, eh? Mutual aid or whatever you want to call it; we, uh-- we try to train each other.”

For the first time since they’d started this conversation, he looked at her in full. Her flames were low, but still spitting, and he’d never seen that combination before; the dim fire meant that she was upset, and the sputtering was indicative of agitation. Something in the recesses of his mind-- the part that wrung its hands, so utterly convinced that he was a terrible brother and friend-- whispered ‘guilt’, but he wasn’t about to go making any decisive statements. That seemed presumptuous at best.

He took a moment to think her words over, and realized that he couldn’t argue with that. Wasn’t it precisely what he’d wanted, all along? To help Litwick evolve into the best version of herself, and to grow as a person?

Was this what it meant to find someone whose ideals matched his own?

Slowly, he inclined his head, and used both hands to fold the pokeball back together.

---

Litwick never could have imagined that she’d find herself in this situation.

She didn’t see herself as a Pokemon who would ever take a trainer. Something deep inside of her rankled at the indignity of being captured, and so she’d taken it… poorly when she wound up stuck inside a pokeball. She was a literal free spirit, unable to be contained, and not some everyday Pokemon who would allow themselves to be domesticated.

And-- and if she had deigned to attach herself to a human, it would be someone she’d deemed worthy: a savant, someone who understood their partners and knew exactly the footing they stood on together. She wouldn’t tolerate any incompetence, any disrespect; she knew her worth and she wouldn’t compromise.

Muppet kid was… a kid. He’d slapped her in the face with the realization that she wasn’t the heavyweight she’d believed herself to be, and so he’d needed to be taken down several pegs, too. She saw how he looked at his brother and the flying fish that chased after his heels like a needy Lillipup, and being turned into that was an insult she wouldn’t suffer. She hated that he tried to humor her-- that he thought her so far beneath him that she could be humored-- and so she’d lashed out.

She’d never thought she’d be someone’s partner.

She definitely hadn’t thought she’d be someone’s failed partner.

Before she’d migrated to the Celestial Tower, Litwick had spent some time in a nice library; there had been a woman who’d frequented it, reading aloud for the empty archive, and it had sparked a curiosity in her. She’d mostly read cheesy romances because they were hilarious, but there had been a few instances where she’d branched out-- and one of those times, it had been to browse through a book on literary criticism. At the time, she’d thought it encompassed her own snarky commentary, and finding that it was something else entirely had turned her off of it, but it came to mind now.

The exact words escaped her, but it had stated that if criticism caused a writer to give up their craft, then it had failed at its job; the worst thing a critic could do was snuff the desire to create.

Litwick was beginning to realize that she’d done just that, metaphorically speaking, at least.

Even if she didn’t like how he went about it, the ki... Ingo had been trying, and in recent weeks, she’d taken that for granted. She hadn’t given it a second thought when he stopped refuting her mild insults or answering her sass with a subtle sarcasm of his own.

He thought she truly didn’t like him-- and she’d thought she didn’t like him, but now, faced with the prospect of being released into the wild, she had to reevaluate her feelings.

She guessed he was… sweet, but dull, in the way of someone who hadn’t figured out who they were, yet. Somehow, she just expected more from him, and she wasn’t sure why-- there was a smokiness he lacked, the steel of willpower honed to a razor’s edge, and of burning want, the drive to reach an undefined goal. It was frustrating to know it should have been there, but just wasn’t for some reason.

His soul was flatter than ever, now, albeit with a melancholic tinge that felt more like what she’d expected. Litwick realized she didn’t like it any better and-- worse-- that there was no one but herself to blame for its current state.

As things stood, she had been a bad partner. In those daydreams where she allowed herself to have a trainer, they were a master of their craft, someone whose orders in battle were confident and without flaw, who saw her worth and respected her for her power and wit-- but Litwick… had to be able to prove herself worth that ideal, in turn. That was why she’d been so mad at Ingo at first; he’d unwittingly shown that she wasn’t that noble and mighty Pokemon who wouldn’t settle. She’d been captured by a shocked 12 year old whose first instinct had been to catch the ghost snacking on his brother.

If trainers shared their ideals with the Pokemon they trained, using those ambitions to help them grow bigger and better, then couldn’t it go both ways? She already knew what she thought her kid was capable of-- all she had to do was train him back, help in grow into it.

“Maybe... we can make a deal, eh? Mutual aid or whatever you want to call it; we, uh-- we try to train each other.”

Finally, Ingo looked at her, and she hadn’t realized until that moment just how much his refusal to do so had grated on her-- not in the sense that it was disrespectful, which she might have guessed even five minutes ago, but because he couldn’t look her in the eye. For the first time since her spike of white-hot realization, Litwick considered what he’d been trying to do here. He was offering to let her go, yes, but only ever on her terms: ‘you can go if you would prefer,’ ‘it’s not fair to you,’ ‘no one’s stopping you.’ Not once had he implied that this was something he’d wanted and, in fact, the miserable allegation that she was only making things harder on him suggested the opposite

The internal tension holding her wax firm ebbed as he lowered his head into a tiny nod, sealing the deal by tucking her pokeball back into its intended shape. More than anything that came before it, that was the moment Litwick realized that she was at peace with this decision; if she so chose, she could move in another direction with her life, but she would always wonder what might have been.

“That’s an acceptable course of action.” Ingo said, voice hushed in a way she vaguely remembered hadn’t heard before.

“Deal’s a deal, then.” She said, and inched forward, waiting to see if he was about to recall her. He didn’t, and she moved closer, until she was standing just a foot away.

As she moved nearer, he knelt down onto her level, and considered her as she came to a complete stop. After a moment’s deliberation, he held a hand out so she could use it to get up. “You’re welcome to board as our conductor.”

Her first instinct was to brush his comment off with a snide remark, but after the conversation they’d just had, deliberately softened it. Now that they’d reached a new understanding, she thought they could go back to roasting one another within the week, but it would be kind to give it a grace period for the evening.

She took the offer. His hands were gentle as he lifted her, putting her in the mind of rough but discerning fingers running across a chin she didn’t have, and pleasant though it was, she cut it short by climbing onto his shoulder.

“Sounds good. Where’s this train headed, anyway?”

“Tonight, we’re returning to home station.” He said, and then gave her a subtle look, inclining his head, “But tomorrow… we’ll start to run toward our next highest state, together.”

[britcision]

The important part of the Vimes theory of monarchy is that it actually applies to every power structure, every organization

Is the person at the top good?

What about their underlings? They all have to be good too

It’s why Carrot never actually outs himself as the king, but it’s equally important to every other part of the watch series and Ankh Morpork itself

And Vetinari is its strongest adherent

See, Ankh Morpork only works the way it does because of the presence of four key players:

- Vetinari

- Vimes

- Carrot

- Lady Sybil Ramkin

(You could make an argument for Colon and Nobby too but I digress)

Without all four of these people, and their interpersonal reactions, the well ordered and prosperous city we see later on couldn’t exist

You can tell, because it very literally didn’t until Carrot arrived, and a dragon showed up to coincidentally introduce Vimes to Lady Sybil

Ankh Morpork was a mess and a hotbed of crime and fuckery, and you never saw many species other than humans; always one or two, but as thriving subcultures? As the influential business owners and captains of industry dwarves and trolls became?

No

Vetinari, the man on top of the pile, couldn’t finish shaping the city into a neat and well running machine without an additional stabilizing force; something outside the guilds to keep the law, and he did not have that in the alcoholic Vimes

Vimes could not reform first himself and then the watch without the combination of optimistic ideals and muscle to back them up (physical or social) that Carrot and Lady Sybil brought; without them, the watch was something to step over

Carrot couldn’t grow to understand the complexity of the city or the moral problems of control without a cynical, experienced Vimes to show him just why kings don’t solve everything

And Lady Sybil never had a reason to push for the betterment of her city until she directly met someone who wanted more, and would do anything to get it

If any one of them hadn’t stepped up and done their own thing, in their own way, none of it would have worked

By Men At Arms, the second watch book, Vimes is already seeing how many doors Lady Sybil opens for him. He can demand entry to the Assassin’s Guild because he owns the fucking land it’s built on

Lady Sybil knows Vetinari by his first name, and her little address book is the strongest tool in the arsenal of persuasion on the whole Disc

Sam Vimes persuades her the goblins need to be cared for, but Sybil Ramkin persuades the world

Sweet, uncynical Carrot arrives in Ankh Morpork believing you stop thieving by arresting the head of the thieves’ guild - and then fucking does it

It doesn’t work, because he doesn’t understand the mechanism yet, but it makes a point

Carrot is a narrative force that the flow of the Discworld curves around, just like Granny Weatherwax (and he was raised in the Ramtops by Lancre, they probably met)

He’s got the strength of ten because his heart is pure and his muscles thicc and finally, finally, Vimes has met someone who can actually back up all the ideals he’s left to rot in the bottom of a bottle

With Carrot in the watch, why can’t they arrest a dragon? Who’s going to stop them? He’s not just a brick shithouse, he’s a likeable brick shithouse and everyone wants to see what he’ll do next

Carrot? Carrot cares about people, about all people

He’s ready to speak for the people with no voices, and more importantly he’s ready to shut up and listen to those people about what they need

He’s the idealistic core of the modern watch

Lady Sybil pours in funding, respectability, power, and woe betide a single noble in the city who wants to talk down to her husband’s watch

She’s the backbone that gives those ideals staying power

Vimes has already seen what happens when they fail, and seen enough of human nature not to trust a damn thing, and knows how important it is to have true accountability

Compared to Vetinari, he’s almost as idealistic as Carrot, but he has the taste of reality

He’s the determination, the unshakeable core of militant decency who, if he can, will always stand

Vetinari likes to think that everyone is utterly awful all of them time, and often he’s proven right. But he knows the power of narrative, the power of a true Good Man, especially one with the right support

He knows what people need to thrive, and how to best use their potential

He’s the shepherd of it all, the city and watch combined, and any shepherd will tell you the difference a well trained sheepdog makes

Even if it’s a terrier

That’s why it never works that way in real life

“Organized crime” means something very different in the real world, and we need a lot more than just four good people to hold society together

It only takes one corrupt person and the result is cronyism and worse

[verdemoun]

Dutch Motherfucking Van Der Linde in timewarp au.

@themodernpr0metheus because this is your fault be warned it's 1400+ words

so much to process. every single damned character in timewarp is affected by the very idea what became of Dutch Van Der Linde again let alone how they're meant to handle it when Dutch comes back. also gentle reminder that in the report the bureau wrote that John shot and killed Dutch so that's a whole other conflict they're going to have to deal with

also for the 1899 gang it's been 12 years. honestly for most of them it's been 12 years the only person who really interacted with dutch after 1899 was Micah and Dutch fucking shot him. Micah is still salty about it. look at that rat man you know he can hold a grudge.

12 years, no Dutch. Hosea's nearing his 70s, he has his wife and a house. Lenny, Jenny, Karen and Sean aren't kids anymore they're well into adulthood with legitimate jobs. Arthur and Charles are the new curious couple with Isaac their unruly son. Kieran doesn't jump or flinch anymore when people try to talk to him. Hosea really got everything he wanted - they're out of the gang, they're safe and happy.

Also Dutch isn't the only one coming back in a relatively short time period. They have to go all the way to Mexico to get Javier and Bill. They have to get John!! John, who was shot at the house Charles and Uncle helped him build for Abigail, who stared down a firing squad because it gave Abigail and Jack time to escape. They absolutely have to be there for John.

Hosea thinks long and hard. Dutch: who left Lenny to bleed out alone, who was willing to leave John to be executed in prison, and left Arthur to die alone, and abandoned Javier and Bill. Dutch: who formed another gang and killed innocents, used Muriel Scranton as a human shield before shooting her IT WOULD HAVE BEEN MORE OF A DISTRACTION TO LET HER GO ALIVE DUTCH. Is it everything he feared would happen to Dutch? Is it the Dutch he started to see glimpses of after Blackwater or did he know, deep down, this is what Dutch was always capable of?

What's the pettiest, bitchest thing he can do? Absolutely nothing. Hosea Matthews sits down with the gang trying to prepare for the 1911 returns and says that he is not going to get Dutch Van Der Linde. He is not going to see Dutch, talk to Dutch or help Dutch. Dutch is not welcome in his home or near his family and he doesn't expect nor want any of them to afford him the luxury of coming into their lives.

Annabelle is the one who goes to collect Dutch from the base of a cliff. The last time Annabelle saw Dutch, he was young and idealistic, and she had to read about Blackwater and everything that came after it right up to his death. She needs to see him so she can understand how someone she did genuinely love became something so evil that the people who did love him had to sit down and seriously ask themselves if he could be redeemed.

And Dutch Van Der Linde hits her with the 'you're as beautiful as the day I lost you'

She so nearly, nearly faulters. God as much as she hates him she wants to believe there is a reason, a sound, logical reason how Dutch abandoned so much of the ideals that made him Dutch. It's a tremendous burden only people who have loved Dutch know but deep down there's always a part of you that will love Dutch, as much as you try to kill it. She desperately wanted to believe she as the oldest, the most separated from Dutch, she was over it - but it's there. That awful demon is clawing its way back into her mind as she wonders if she can fix him, if she can save him and make him something recognizable again.

She knows damn well this is why Hosea knew he couldn't be the one to get Dutch.

Remembering why she has to be the one to get Dutch, to protect the gang she is now part of again and cares so much about from falling into the very real, intoxicating charm of Dutch, she holds her ground. Pulls away and tells him to get in the back seat of the car.

She takes him to a very nice, private, well-researched, pre-booked and thoroughly inspected in-patient mental health ward. the gang themselves have argued whether or not Dutch did the things he did because he was mentally ill or hit his head too many times or if he would've become a monster regardless but they do agree something is not right with Dutch and frankly 24 hour medical supervision is probably something he needs regardless because no one wants to just… bring him into the homes and lives they've tried to hard to build in modern era.

i promise, dutch is thriving. the d in dsm-5 might stand for dutch once the doctors are through with him but he's getting diagnosed with A lot.

they're paid to listen to him so he's going on so many rants and giving speeches and they're sitting there listening and nodding and asking questions (as they frantically write notes) and he's just basking in the attention. -> this. this is dutch's life

also dutch getting to finally admit to and work through his grief over what happened to the gang. he saw the old guard die. he lost so many people he cared about. he lost john. john left. john would've moved on completely after micah's death if not for the bureau. and the gang did lose faith in him, even before then. he felt it, he knew it. they did betray him (in his warped sense of betrayal)

also just dutch getting into intense philosophical and ethical debates with both his doctors and other patients. his doctors knowing they are absolutely not meant to engage when dutch is on a rant but it's just so fun debating with him

medication does help get Dutch back to something closer to 'old Dutch' he's still very grandiose but he's calmed down to the point he isn't reckless he can recognize when his behavior is crossing into outlandish

it's inevitable the gang do reach out to him and find it personally terrifying how close they can get to forgiving him before they remember all the shit they went through as a direct result of Dutch's actions

occasionally take him out on day trips but he is not getting to the point where he can be left to roam freely. Dutch always was and always will be a dangerous person when he can morally justify it to himself.

Dutch reuniting with Hosea hits so hard. hosea can only avoid him so long and dutch is old and tired and pulls hosea into a hug on the verge of tears and hosea cannot stop himself from hugging dutch back he still loves him god damnit he loves his wife but he will always love dutch and seeing dutch get help and try to become his old self again would hurt so much in such a positive way

his doctors (who have searched dutch van der linde and now think Dutch has delusional disorder and only thinks he is the Dutch Van Der Linde) do not think he has actually committed murder but the gang know he is very, very capable of murder

dutch is an avid triple mango vape enthusiast. no one knows how he keeps getting them.

he still thinks everything would be fine if they just went to tahiti

he is the #1 evelyn miller fan and thinks evelyn miller's death is further proof of his brilliance. during supervised computer time he will be on the evelyn miller subreddit and sometimes needs to be forcibly removed from the computer because he becomes so enraged at bad takes

the gang are all very protective of their kids being around dutch when he is there (including micah who does not want his stupid annoying pain in the ass grand-nephew kai to become Dutch-ified) but somehow they managed to raise well-rounded young people who just shrug and go 'lmao dutch is talking again'

dutch goes on volunteering excursions for habitat for humanity (under annabelle's supervision) and thoroughly enjoys it. he gradually becomes less 'fight the system for the good of all man' and more 'focus on the good i can do in one (second-chance) lifetime'. all i want is aged dutch in the modern version of his 1911 outfit kneeling in muck and smiling because he's Actually helping people again and he didn't know how much he missed it

[mahoushojo-chan]

headcanons on the Cazador spawn family

because i had to write the family into my fanfiction, i spent a good hour in the szarr manor just scrounging for details.

additional credits to this redditor who helped get me started. i won't be going over the details that they already succinctly summarized, i'll only go over my extrapolations

tw: mentions of SA, ptsd, and all the gory details you'd expect from astarion's personal quest. and spoilers, of course.

Cazador Szarr:

in many ways, i want to write cazador as astarion's foil, and someone who has very similar views to an ascended astarion, even if he has a relatively different personality. i saw him as someone more introverted and calculated than our hedonistic, in-the-moment ally, but they are joined in the sense that both of them are intentionally cruel to others and possessive over what is theirs. i also wrote him as a necromancer wizard. just seemed to fit.

one thing that seemed to stump many is why there were only seven spawn that cazador kept, but seven thousand he could have chosen from. my theory is this: cazador was truly trying to build some semblance of family, as fcked up as it became. i also don't think that he ended up seeing them as family, and that his viewpoint constantly changed between seeing them as family, lovers, and slaves/tools for his own pleasure. astarion truly loved you before he ascended, and in the same vein, i imagine cazador had an innocent wish as a spawn, or even as a human: he wanted to be a father or a lover, apparently to a large family. this frames how i view the 'siblings'.

Leon Onufrio:

the only spawn with a last name, oddly enough. astarion says that he was 'one of (Cazador's) firsts', which led me to believe there must have been at least one before. i wrote leon to be his first. this makes sense for cazador's first spawn, since cazador seemingly has an affinity towards pretty men. it made sense to me that he could lure in a human with the false promise of eternity, and that he would choose one who seemed responsible and kind for his first 'son'. he is the only one with a daughter, and the only one with limited access to magic. he also seems to understand cazador well, being the first to realize that astarion is right to believe in cazador's cruelty over their false promise of freedom. i imagine cazador would have wanted him to play the role of a 'responsible older brother', and allow him the most independence. the first to have a child, the top hunter, the role model. amongst the spawn, he is the golden child, aka just had the most time to adapt to cazador's ways and go towards people pleasing. and due to his role, cazador allows him to play this.

i wrote him as a shadow magic sorcerer, because we know he is canonically a sorcerer and that he managed to place a necrotic curse on his daughter's blood, in case anyone would go after her. shadow magic seemed fitting for a vampire. it seemed like the type that would attract cazador.

I know that canonically there's a likelihood that he was the last spawn that cazador took in, and he had to take victoria with him and had to be in a position to actually mpregnate someone, but i just wrote it such that he managed to do so while he was a spawn... which is possible, astarion fans... it is possible...

Astarion Ancunin:

canonically astarion's one of cazador's firsts, and i chose to make him the second. i figured if i were an evil, narcissistic asshole playing 'house' with a son, artistically, a cain-and-abel dynamic with an 'ideal' older son and a resentful, evil younger brother. it is also known that astarion was rebellious, and cazador took specific glee in punishing him. that's right, according to this theory: astarion was always built to fail. he was always made to be punished in his role, regardless of what he did. he was meant to be broken over and over again, but not broken enough to stop rebelling entirely, because this would mean that he didn't fit his role well enough. he would be punished according to his role, because you could not be too rebellious, but then he could also be punished if he did not rebel enough, because then he wouldn't suit cazador's cruel playacting. he is the 'rebellious second-born'.

using the bg3 canon, astarion is an arcane trickster. i write him as a thief, never quite having enough time or wanting to put enough effort on honing his magical ability, moreso focusing on surviving.

Dalyria:

the rest of the spawn get a little more difficult, as less and less of them are known. we know dalyria was a physician, she cares about astarion, and she killed leon's daughter to try and discover a 'cure' to their vampirism. i just wanted to write her in relation to the others as a "mature and elegant older sister". one who genuinely has other people's best interests at heart. i also wanted to keep in mind the doctor's hippocratic oath and how that may have degraded and suffered from cognitive dissonance under years of abject torture, especially with what she ended up doing to victoria.

as it stands, there actually is a 'physician's touch' feat in dungeons and dragons, under the monk: way of mercy subclass.

Aurelia:

personally, i thought aurelia was really cute. she's also the only tiefling in cazador's coterie. continuing with the pattern, i thought perhaps cazador could also think so: she plays the role of the 'cute, anxious younger sister' that needs to be coddled a bit. she allows the hope of freedom to be dangled in her face.

in my hypothetical, she was innocent and it was probably easy for cazador to lure her in. perhaps she was already treated poorly by the world as a tiefling, and cazador pretended to be a kind, caring, gentle figure. whether as a father, or a lover. she seems to be the most aware of cazador's schemes and easy to control.

because she was captured while she was still innocent, and i made it so that after capture, none of cazador's spawn could really 'grow' as people while under his control (hence why astarion is level 1 when we meet him), i don't have a class for her yet, other than the charisma-based inclination based off her tiefling nature. i do have two little plot hooks for her though, so i'll see which direction she decides to go in.

Petras:

what we mainly know is that petras is a bit of an idiot, according to astarion. while this would normally hold very little juice, since astarion thinks all acts of good are idiotic, we also see that petras is regarded this way in general, such as looking for a meal when he finally is allowed his freedom. his role was "dumb younger brother".

i imagined him as a bit of a jock. not exactly ill-intentioned, but definitely ignorant. he also looked shorter and stouter than astarion--even though i know they most likely use the same model, i wanted to incorporate this. i wanted to make him a idiot-good paladin at first, and keep him as someone resilient and protective, but none of the oaths really seemed to suit him. i knew none of them could be a religious class, mainly for the reasons astarion brought up, and the oaths themselves didn't really serve him well. i settled on barbarian and flavour him with dhampir. yes, even though all of them are technically vampires and petras specifically was a human in life, i just used character sheets to make things easier.

Violet:

Violet was at least a little interesting--mostly because of her diary. she constantly writes about playing pranks on other people and overall being a menace. she's also the only other person to be in the 'favoured spawn' room in recent history. while leon constantly tried to shoehorn his way in there for his daughter, she had no such attachment. i figured she just was a little cruel, and enjoyed the suffering of others so much that she may have actually enjoyed the killing a vampire would do.

i also had cazador enforce this behaviour, because in this hierarchy, she is the 'bratty younger sister'. the favoured youngest spawn. i made her a gloom stalker ranger. i wanted her to be ruthless in the way that she got her kills, attacking others while she had the advantage, and still having some skill. i also wanted an overlap where she and astarion could reconnect so that she wouldn't be completely lost and evil, what with both of them being sneaky and such. plus helps with the pranks role, and gives her some capacity for wisdom

Yousen:

the final sibling. the only thing i think we ever find out about this guy is that violet played a prank on him once. i imagine that cazador saw him as a joke. his stature doesn't fit his team, he's not particularly their type, and he doesn't seem to be treated very well. i think of him as the 'black sheep' of the family. the 'runt of the litter'. this is the role he is meant to play.

however, even though this is the role he plays, i didn't make him this way at all. i headcanon this is the 'character' cazador cared least about. i don't think he took much time carefully picking it out, since yousen would also be the last spawn chosen for the ritual, and at this point, cazador figures they're all going to die anyways--he just needs to complete the family. there was a lot i could do here, with so little known about him. i made him reclusive and resentful, which makes him seem to fit the role, but deep down it's mostly because he's hardened and jaded. i made his backstory as a soldier--perhaps one that cazador found drunk at a bar one day and figured he would make a good joke, a runt, and effectively the most misunderstood.

he is a battle master fighter. or, well, formerly was. i had him lose a significant amount of skill during the years that he became a spawn. also during cazador's ritual, if you examine everyone, he and leon are the only ones with blood on their mouths. i felt that this meant they were the only two who attempted to fight cazador before becoming sacrifical lambs. (note: they also have it at the camp when they attack astarion, but this could still be valid and also i don't trust the texture mapping they did with the spawn, what with their red bodies) i thought a sorcerer and fighter could make a badass combo. also, there are a lot of people who sleep on the halfling fighter builds.